


The Shadow and The Hunter

by arcadia_trash



Series: Wren the Hunter Series [2]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Infertility, Married Couple, Soul-Searching, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadia_trash/pseuds/arcadia_trash
Summary: Wren is now settled into her life as a married woman and the Trollhunter. She has friends, family, and allies, and all seems well...somewhat. As Wren struggles to start a family with Draal, she is confronted with not only her trauma of growing up an orphan, but also realizes that the Changeling from the Janus Order has just begun. Throw in angry Trollhunting ghosts and cryptic nightmares about Bular, and Wren is on the brink of losing her sense of balance. Somehow, someway, she is determined to find sanity in all this once and for all.





	1. Chapter 1

Gem cleaving was not necessarily devoid of interest -- pushing stones together to see if they blew up or not certainly put Wren on her toes. But that did not mean she looked forward to the work.

It required not only extensive knowledge on the various properties of thousands of gemstones, but also the careful experience on how to actually utilize their power. And even then, each cleaving could give a different result because of factors relating to faceting, density, or even size.

And -- damn it -- it bored Wren to _death._

She growled and threw the Zen stone back onto the chest where other stones sat. As if by Fate, it rolled neatly into a crevice next to the Wisdom Stone she created just a half a year prior.

“You wouldn’t want your father to see you doing that.”

Wren turned to Rika, walking in with a basket of fresh rags on her hip. “I can do as I please. Papa can deal with it.”

“Oh give the old goat a break.” Rika chuckled. “Besides, I heard you were trying to make a new stone, not break your old ones.”

“Draal.” she half-growled, closing the chest now. “What did he tell you?”

“Just that your dreams are bothering you.”

That was true, at least, though she made Draal promise not to tell anyone _anything._ She would have to talk to him about that later.

“They have been, which is why I was wondering whether the Wisdom or Zen stones may help. But their faceting and energy levels are too strong to put into the Amulet at the same time.”

“Oh?” Rika prodded, interested. Wren rolled her eyes and set aside her work apron, the Amulet humming ever loyally on her necklace. Underneath, she revealed a classic leather dress typical of troll women, but her shirt resembled a crop-top modification of a Papa Skulls tee.

“Please don’t make me explain. I hate the work enough as is.”

“Says the inventor of diamonds.” Rika said. She began placing the clean rags into a clay jug, and filled the basket with dirty ones. “At the least, cleaving gives you a steady income.”

Wren pursed her lips and faced away from her stepmother, pretending to focus on putting away cleaving tools. “It’s decent pay, I suppose. It’s not like I have much to do now that Bular’s gone.”

“You call breaking up a civil war in Underaura ‘not much to do’?”

“A civil war for _pixies_. Trollkind is just...so boring now!” Wren paused and now faced Rika again. “Though honestly, I can’t complain. Beats going to war, I suppose.”

Rika hummed in response, finished with her chores in the Heartstone Chamber. “Mind your idleness then, the end of one adventure almost always leads to another. See you for tea?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Wren answered, watching her leave. She let out a sigh and instinctively laid a hand over her belly, a belly that had yet to swell with a whelp inside. It took time for such things to happen, but she grew anxious. An adventure with whelps sounded much less heartbreaking than an adventure chasing after a conception for one.

At least Draal was still happy. He vainly assumed a growing brood would appear sooner or later, and was content enough to watch over and train the human boys. He and Frek were joined at the hip now, taking over training duties together, Blinky stepping in to give overall advice that would not contradict with Wren’s wishes for the team.

“That’s it boy! Jab ‘em ‘til they break!” Blinky shouted from the side, watching as Jim attacked a moving dummy relentlessly until a large chunk of it fell off. Argh laughed at the mess made as the boys cheered.

“My turn!” Eli piped, rushing in only to have Frek grab him by the scruff of his collar.

“Easy, Eli. You don’t even know what you’re up against. You need to prowl, gather intelligence, find weaknesses--”

“But that’s assassin stuff! I want to be a warrior!”

Frek rose a brow and dropped him. “Even a warrior is not so foolish as to rush into battle without assessing information.”

“Really?” Draal said, looking confused.

“To be fair,” Jim butted in, “Draal is Spike Ball McDeath. Eli is...well...”

“A soft boi. Baby child.” Toby said, texting someone on his phone. “Annnnd sent!"

“Who?” Argh asked. The others focused on Eli’s stances with a crossbow, which Argh found disinteresting. He was not as in love with human culture and things the way Wren was, but he always did find their technology impressive. The screen lit up as a message was sent back.

“Just Nana. She likes it when I send her updates.”

“Ah, gramma’s little bean pie!” Jim teased. Toby responded by throwing a rock at him. Wren walked in and laughed.

“Hey! No rock throwing unless it’s at a target.”

“Took you long enough.” Draal said in amusement.

“I was busy with important things.” Wren waved off. No one missed her droopy eyes and little yawn. Blinky stepped forward.

“Actually, Master Wren, I was hoping to focus more on the younglings today.”

Wren looked confused, so he continued. “Well, with your daily rounds about Trollmarket and on the surface, I felt it necessary to cut down on your training sessions.”

Draal shrugged when his wife looked to him. “It’s not like you can’t fight. At this point it’s just practice.”

“Oh...that’s okay then.” Wren answered awkwardly. She really had nothing else planned, nothing else to do -- a first in her life. As a child she was constantly on the prowl for food, work, or adventures with Lora. As a youngling, Vendel filled her days with lessons and errands, both domestic and social. Even when she first ascended to the role of Trollhunter, she had a wedding to plan and Bular to defeat.

And now...nothing. Nothing but fretting over her sleepless nights and empty womb.

“Right. I, uh, I should get going then. You boys get home on time, alright?” Wren said, shifting the focus away from her. The boys chorused their ‘yes’ and eagerly returned to their training. Walking away, Wren only loosened up when she was completely out of the Hero’s Forge.

Perhaps a nap wouldn’t hurt? She had yet to try the herbal blend she bought from Rot and Gut. “Dreamless sleep!” Gut had claimed.

Wren returned to her new cave home, which she shared with Draal. In many ways, she still did not feel at home with it -- it had been Kanjigar’s abode, after all. With the fiasco of events that had occurred before, neither of them had time to address his last will, which gave Draal and his future kin everything. The cave was larger, much larger, than both Draal and Wren’s cave homes combined. Every hall was stacked with filled bookcases and scrolls, almost every wall decorated with traditional, rare tapestries or wall carvings. After some dusting and organizing, the place was left almost exactly as Kanjigar left it; only his personal nesting chamber had been changed. Draal refused to consummate their marriage on the same sheets his father slept on, and Wren hardly complained.

Other than their nesting area, sitting room, and kitchen area, there were three other chambers: one was an office, with a desk similar to Blinky’s in his library; the room connected to it served as an armory of sorts for rare weapons that Kanjigar had collected in his years of service, a favorite of Draal’s; and finally, a smaller, though still spacious room, sitting right next to their own nesting room.

It was technically a storage room, and did house a few barrels of things they did not know what else to do with. Wren stopped by it as she headed to their nest, a pink hand taking the tapestry that acted as a door and pushing it to the side to look in.

Wren knew looking in always made her feel worse; she did it anyway. Every time she did so, she imagined the barrels gone, instead replaced by a bassinet and plush whelp’s nest, with a toy chest resting opposite against the wall, and a table by the bed hosting trinkets and books. Perhaps on the walls, she could have her Papa carve scenes from epic tales to entice the imagination of any child who would reside in here.

But there was no need for that yet. Wren wondered if it would ever happen. She shook her head and turned away, as memories of her broken nesting hole as a toddling and whelp surfaced in her mind.

“Definitely need a nap.” Wren muttered to herself, and marched right into her nest. She undressed, took a swig of the remedy, and then prompty fell over into the nesting, happy to feel herself falling into darkness already.

\----

Nomura leaned against the hanging cage. It wasn’t hard to sleep against it -- during her years as a spy, she certainly slept on worse surfaces -- but she always had the nagging feeling that doing so, as a prisoner, made her vulnerable.

Only Wren’s surprising compassion for the Changelings spared them a lynching. Though, perhaps ‘compassion’ was not the right word; she sternly ordered the guards to cease their hazing, told her father, the Elder, just as much, and stormed off. Other than some failed attempts to interrogate them gently by Blinky, they spoke with no other troll but one another.

Not that Strickler was happy with that. Nomura chose to stay in her troll form, happy enough to be in a body that was lithe and strong in case the Trollhunter would change her mind about them. Strickler, however, turned right back into a human. A silver-haired, skinny, weak little human.

A weak little human who spat words of anger and treachery at her betrayal weeks ago, but had since gone eerily quiet. She almost missed the loud-mouthed historian, if just to keep her from dying of boredom.

 _Perhaps that his method of getting me to break down,_ Nomura told herself in correction. Even if she did have her stupid moment of weakness at the battle of Killahead and attacked Bular, that did not mean she was about to betray her brothers and sisters in arms. They had enough hate from the Gumm Gumms over the years; she certainly wasn’t going to risk their welfare to Trollmarket.

Not that she knew what they were up to _now_ , of course. It had been too long for any information of hers to be recent. Nomura knew, for certain, that Otto Scaarbach took control of the Janus Order, and was either reassembling their forces to make new contact with Gunmar, or making their next move, whatever it happened to be.

Well, that and Krax -- but that freeloading pile of bushigal was likely way out of town by now. Nomura and Strickler weren’t ones to squeal, but Krax was smart enough to not take that chance.

A tired, black-haired head thunked against the cage that held her. Nomura sometimes wished she acted that smart too. Only time would tell if she made the right choice that night.


	2. Making Plans, Making Shams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren faces the reality that no one is going to accept her plans for the future of Trollmarket, and while struggling with her own inner doubts, comes face-to-face with the doubts of others -- all while an old enemy makes moves of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HNNNNNNNG So sorry for the slow updates! With my last installment, I had roughly 99% of the fic prewritten, but this time around I'm literally writing it chapter by chapter. It's gonna be a lot slower haha.
> 
> I moved into a new home back in January, and while mental illness has kicked my butt, I am now used to the new home and trying to use my writing hobby as a way to work through my bad days. Here's to more fun chapters in the future! Thank you all for the support with "The Amulet and The Runt", hopefully "The Shadow and The Hunter" is just as much of an adventure for us. :)

Goodness gracious, those leather booties stole Wren’s heart the moment she laid eyes on them. Wren carefully stood to the side of the merchant’s stall, allowing other customers to meander by and do their business without her crowding their space. A sigh eventually let out as she turned away from the dangling booties and other whelp wares.

But just because Wren looked away and focused her eyes on the path towards the Heartstone, did not mean that she didn’t let her mind run wild.

Those booties would have been perfect for a whelp. Too bad she didn’t have one. Yet. But what if she did soon? Wren was okay with crafting but not the best. And those little designs! They were gorgeous! Still, what use was it to spend her coin on something she may never use? Every bit of her cash seemed to go into finding a remedy for her apparent barrenness; if not that, then her recurrent nightmares.

The closer Wren stepped towards the Heartstone, the more she felt its pulse. A part of her wondered if she could redirect those pulses towards her empty womb, as if to heal it.

Or perhaps her brain. Despite the sleeping aid from Rot and Gut, Wren was still tired from her sleepless nap. And that nightmare still played over and over in her mind’s eye...

_It was darker and colder than Wren knew was possible. So cold, she could see her own breath form a cloud. Dying crystals jutting from the black rock formations barely lit the path enough for her to see a few feet ahead of her. Even her own armor of Daylight was not enough to fill the void around her._

_And yet -- something attracted her senses. Wren’s golden eyes, almost glowing themselves, darted about in the darkness, and heard ragged breathing draw in closer. Soon, there was a whisper, and her heart pounded._

_“Help me.” it rasped. “Mercy!”_

_And every time, before Wren could stop herself, she would turn to see who called for help, only to be met with the snarling visage of Gunmar the Black himself. His blade raised high for an attack, and with a rough clang, would slice her --_

“You’re in a daze, Wren!” Rika half-chuckled, meeting her foster daughter at the door of Vendel’s cave. “Don’t tell me you’re training yourself away from sleeping.”

Wren smiled. “No, not at all. Sleep itself is simply hard to do these days.”

Rika eyed her carefully but brought her in regardless. Inside, Vendel was already at the sitting table -- a favorite piece of Rika’s that she gave to him as a courting gift -- and was pouring a bit of glug into his cup of tea. His ears perked in interest.

“Tell me, is it a work-daze, or a baby-daze?”

“Vendel! Honestly, you old goat.” Rika chided as she sat the two of them down. Wren held back sharp words of her own, choosing instead to let them bicker long enough for her to drink her own tea.

“I have a fully grown daughter who is happily married to a healthy young warrior. Am I wrong to expect grandchildren?”

“Expectations can be kept to yourself.” Rika said pointedly, before pouring some tea for herself. “Besides, I’m sure Wren is wanting to speak to us about something else?”

Wren blinked and sat down her cup. “Er...”

Rika rose a brow. “Something about a new friend coming for a visit?”

Addled already by poor sleep and frazzled nerves, Wren blinked again as she racked her poor tired brain on what Rika was referring to. The older troll matron waited patiently, almost in amusement.

“A new friend, from a certain human town you like to stroll about in so much?” Rika teased further. Finally, Wren made an “oh!” face and turned to her father on her pillowed seat.

“Yes, her! You know about the human girl, Claire Nunez -- the one who saw the battle with Bular. I spoke with Blinky about it, and we both agreed that perhaps is a good time to have her visit.”

Vendel frowned. “Absolutely not! We have three fleshbags and an ousted Elder’s son already amongst us.”

“But Papa!”

“And two Changeling prisoners you have yet to crack, on top of that.” Vendel said with more firm bitterness. “What will adding in another fleshwhelp do for you? For Trollmarket?”

Wren scoffed and she set aside her cup. “So what do you propose I do then? Since you’re so full of bright ideas!”

“Wren, Vendel, _please._ ” Rika tried to reason. They argued still.

“If you want that girl wandering around our home, then I demand you make progress with the Changelings.” Vendel ordered in a tone befitting any angry Elder. “I get more hot-headed charges against me for refusing to do anything with them on _your_ orders than I do any other complaint; the least you can do for your father is spare him the headache.”

She would have argued with him further, but Wren could not: Vendel was right. 

“...Fine. I will speak with Blinky on what to do.” Wren affirmed. “But, _only_ if Claire is allowed within Trollmarket’s barrier. Those fleshwhelps are more useful to me than you want to admit.”

“I can’t admit _anything_ around you without it getting rubbed in my face.” Vendel snorted, sipping straight from his tankard of glug now. Rika huffed.

“Is it too much for an old woman to ask, that her own kin sit still for a civil afternoon of tea?”

Wren flushed and her ears drooped. “Sorry.”

Vendel grumbled out a barely audible apology, flushing as well. Rika rolled her eyes and muttered something about this mess being “worse than Lora’s fits” as she went to busy herself in the kitchen. Vendel looked sorely sorry now, standing up carefully to go after her.

“I do mean it, Wren. Something needs to be done about the Changelings.” he told her. “Or you’ll have more than just my own temper going after you.”

\----

“So...the boys are bringing Claire to Trollmarket...I imagine Vendel had a thing or two to say about it.”

Blinky carefully watched Wren fuss in the corner of his library, trying and failing to find some herb or other in his medical text section. She did not bother to look up, instead furrowing her brows as she jotted something down onto her stone arm with ink.

“He always does with _anything_ I do. I’m a grown matron with my own life and he still treats me like a whelp.”

“He treats you like a daughter, Master Wren. You can’t hold that against him.”

Wren sighed, finally looking up at her trainer. “It’s just one more thing I have to worry about. Vendel is on edge. Rika is getting fed up with how much we argue. I’m bringing in another human to our fold, and we haven’t gotten anywhere with the Changelings.”

“Now that, I can feel at fault for.” Blinky said sheepishly now and setting down a scroll. “I’m afraid the tactics you asked me to employ simply don’t work.”

“I know.”

“And you are still serious about not resorting to the more traditional methods of--”

“I am.” Wren said firmly. She stood up now, having found what she was looking for. “Look, Papa is demanding that we do something about the Changelings. And...I have an idea.”

“An idea, I fear, your father will not approve of.”

“How else does he take anything I come up with?”

A hearty chuckle escaped Blinky as he wandered over to Wren’s side, the two of them leaving to meet with the new human and the rest of the team near the entrance. He guided them as he spoke.

“I have to admit, I am at fault for that as well. You always did enjoy my more conspiring plots when you were younger.”

Wren grinned now too. “Then I hope you like this plot I’ve thought of -- I want the Changelings to be integrated into Trollmarket.”

Blinky stopped by stumbling a little in shock, as well as choking on himself. All six eyes bugged out. “Wh-what?”

“Here me out, first!” Wren said, looking around to make sure no one was listening in. It was crowded, as always, but no one looked to pay them any mind. “I don’t intend to let them run free, obviously, but they should learn to trust us, be one of us again.”

_Again._ That was the word that got Blinky to soften to the idea. Even if he were not a historian, he would have known all too well that Changelings had been stolen away from their families, and forced to become a part of Gunmar’s armies. Argh’s fate had been the same, and he, too, chose a peaceful path in the end.

Still, these were Changelings. Spies. Assassins. Wren must have seen the thoughts pop up in his eyes, because she quickly continued to assure him that she knew what she was doing.

“I know that they did what they did as fully-aware adults. No one is denying the crimes they have committed.” Wren told him. Then, her own golden eyes softened. “But when I saw Nomura turn on Bular that night...I realized that I didn’t just hate her because she killed Lora. I had hated her, because I thought all Changelings were supposed to be hated.”

Wren sighed and finished her little speech, hoping Blinky would understand. “Nomura may have done a lot of bad things, but Argh did too at one point, right? Both of them are proof that people can change. I still don’t know what made Nomura attack for my sake, but I do know that in the end, they did not choose this life. But they can choose out of it.”

“So you wish for them to be able to make that choice?” Blinky asked, and Wren nodded. He hummed a little in thought, scratching at his chin, and then continued their walk.

“I have to admit, that is a convincing argument on your part. Perhaps my own fraternal bond with Argh has given me reason to trust your reasoning.” Blinky admitted. “But, I do insist that they should be integrated slowly, with care. And plenty of security, of course, for themselves and for others”

“Of course.” Wren said, smiling now. Before they could brainstorm further ideas, there was a wild gasp from just ahead of them. Looking over, Wren saw Claire herself, staring wide eyed at the Trollhunter. She grew a little self-conscious, and began patting over her hair. It had been growing out, but did it look odd to the human? And she wore a woolen shawl and leather skirt today -- was it too garish as well?

But Claire instead exclaimed, “Oh my gosh! She’s beautiful, Jim! I can’t believe all of that was hiding under that burqa thing!”

She then paused, and added, “I can’t believe I never noticed a freaking _troll_ was in front of me this whole time, either.”

Wren laughed, flushing at her previous compliments. “It’s good to meet you too, outside of battle of course.”

Claire smiled sheepishly. “I was in so much shock, I kinda forgot what you even looked like.”

“Think nothing of it. We welcome you warmly to Heartstone Trollmarket all the same.” Wren said kindly, extending her arm to gesture towards the Heartstone itself.

And it went downhill from there.

Claire reminded Wren of herself, when she was a little whelp. The girl loudly and happily exclaimed how wonderful something was, and asked endless questions that none of them had time to answer. Wren had to step in more than once to intercept an annoyed troll or gnome. Frek gave a look to Eli, and the boy shrugged.

“Girls, man...girls.”

They managed to catch up with Claire at the Forge, where she stood in awe.

“This, Miss Nunez, is the Hero’s Forge!” Blinky announced now with pride. “Here the Trollhunting team trains, where our predecessors watch from above and beyond!”

“The dead trolls...watch you train?” Claire said, frowning. Then, she smiled. “That’s freaking awesome! Am I going to train here to?”

“Actually...well...” Wren stumbled, side-glancing over to Blinky and Draal. Her husband only smirked, amused at how much she was flustering. “Ahem, well, I think you should learn about our ways first, of course, before actually becoming a part of the team.”

Blinky then took over, allowing Wren to step back a little as Claire received her first history lesson, wide-eyed and starstruck. The boys sat down on the ground next to her, as did Frek, though he took the time to examine his new weapons rather than listen.

“You look worn, my sweet.”

“Trollhunting does that.” Wren said, attempting to avoid any mention of her worsened sleep. “Blinky and I have a new plan for the Changelings, actually.”

Draal stiffened. He crossed his arms. “You do, then?”

“Nomura and Strickler will be added into Trollmarket as citizens, to help them integrate into society as normal trolls.”

“They are _not_ normal trolls. I would know.” Draal said sharply. Wren faced him fully, trying not to raise her voice.

“Neither am I, but here I am.” she argued. “Draal, you saw Nomura fight Bular at the battle. Something in her snapped that day, and I think its what set her free from whatever was holding her back. And Strickler cared for Jim and his mother, its the only reason why he was as close to them as he was. He can be helped too. I know it.”

“Is it worth risking the safety of Trollmarket over?”

“I’m more worried for their safety than anyone else’s, if we’re being honest.” Wren told him. Draal frowned at that.

“You don’t know the war before your own. I’ve seen what Changlings have done.”

“And I’ve seen what they can do despite their past.” Wren said stubbornly. “It’s been decided -- Nomura and Strickler will become Trollmarket trolls, and that is an order _you_ need to accept if you want this plan to success, and to keep everyone involved safe.”

They had rarely argued since their shotgun wedding at the victory feast. It was something that Wren leaned into when everything else felt dire. But now, they were on the verge of -- yet again -- another argument. Wren softened a little though she was no less firm in her demands.

“I know...I know you don’t like this. But it feels right to me. Nomura has hurt me too, Strickler has hurt Jim and his mother, but I’ve seen the good spark in them. You don’t have to believe it if you don’t want to, but I am asking that you help me make this work.”

Draal snorted out his nose. “I still don’t trust them. And with us trying for a whelp...”

A sharp inhale of air went into Wren’s nose. “It won’t be a problem, trust me.”

Now it was Draal’s turn to soften. He pulled her in, hands over hers, as their noses drew close. “I know it’s taking longer than you like, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Wren heaved a sigh. “I know. Things are hard right now. They always are. Just...just help me with this? Okay?”

Draal grunted, his displeasure for the Changeling idea still obvious, but now he found himself nodding.

“Fine, but only for now. My duty to Trollmarket comes first.”

“As it is with me.” Wren said with a smile now. Draal could not help but smile in return, and just as they were about to touch noses, a great trembling disturbed them, as well as their human and troll friends. Around them, reddish light glimmered from the carvings all around the Forge’s floor and walls, a carved statue folding up from the floor to reveal a trollish head design, and a round mouth with numerous sharp teeth that opened and closed menacingly.

“The Soothscryer.” Wren said in a hushed voice. Just as she said so, the Soothscryer itself called for her by name. Claire whipped her head around at the sound.

“What’s going on? Wren, are you in trouble? Is this bad?”

“Wren is being called...finally...” Blinky said, just as hushed, but more so in reverence than awe. He kneeled before the Soothscryer, the other trolls following suit save for Wren. She walked towards where she was being called, donning the Daylight armor warily.

Though the humans were more confused, Wren knew that Blinky would explain as soon as she was taken to the Void -- the resting place of former Trollhunters.

Including Kanjigar.

Wren held her breath, placed her hand into the Soothscryer’s mouth, and with a flash of light, disappeared from their plane of existence.

\----

“How much longer?” the harsh voice demanded. It was no longer as forceful, no longer as frightening, and Otto Scaarbach chuckled at the sound. The Fetch -- a ring-shaped artifact just bigger than his head -- was the only portal they had to the Darklands, and it was enough to become face-to-face with his previous ruler.

“Gunmar has made it clear, mein former Prinz, of your failure, and what that means for you.” Otto said, leaning back into his plush office chair as feet kicked up onto his new desk at the school. “The fact that I let you speak to me _now_ is an unusual act of mercy on my part. The bridge shall be built, but not for your sake.”

“But I can help!” Bular spat, his pain from wounds showing in his voice now. “If I can just _show_ my father that I can do this--”

“You can’t, and you won’t. If you wish to stay alive, Bular, then perhaps you should focus on surviving another day, instead of begging for mercy from a mere Impure such as myself, no?”

Otto giggled with glee at the sound of Bular’s bristling anger and shame. “How DARE you! I am the Seed of Darkness itself, the only son of Gunmar’s mighty progeny!”

“You were, before you were exiled as a failure.” Otto said, sitting up again with a small piece of pink quartz in his hands. “You will not be hearing from me again, lest I warn the Darkland guards of your whereabouts. And we wouldn’t want _that_ , now do we?”

Otto did not even have to end the transmission this time. The Fetch gave a jolt of energy, ending the connection between their worlds, and Bular the Felled was gone. He would not see him ever again.

The quartz in his hand did not truly glitter or shine, but the pale pinks were certainly pretty to look at. The same pretty pink of the Trollhunting runt that foiled their plans to free Gunmar. Otto hummed in thought, his face settling into a more serious countenance. If his contacts and goblin scouts were correct, then the girl was not made of any ordinary stone, not even for a troll. And with a famed assassin of magic and shadow soon to be at his disposal, Otto felt his chest swell with hope and eagerness for the future.

He was on the precipice of discovering Wren’s weakness, and he would not let the opportunity slide to use it against her, and in Gunmar’s favor.

\----

“Wren the Cleaver, daughter of Vendel, son of Rundle...”

Knajigar’s spirit, a transparent but ghostly blue, puffed up his chest in repressed anger and disgust, his tusks accentuating his disproving snarl.

“Are you _out of your mind?!”_

Wren stood there, unimpressed by his theatrics, as ghosts of previous Trollhunters swirled about him as floating and flying orbs of light -- also a shimmering blue. Perhaps it had been thanks to her recent nightmares, but the literal void of nothingness the place was named after did not scare her one bit. And if that did not frighten her, then Wren had no reason to crouch in fear before her own father-in-law. 

“I’m mentally stable enough to be chosen as Trollhunter, actually.” Wren replied coolly. She certainly wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but this particular reaction was out of line. Not even so much as a hello, or a _Hey how’s Draal doing? Congrats on your marriage!_. 

Nope, it was the Changeling matter. Of course it was. 

“The runt speaks insanity! No one can trust an Impure!” a female voice hissed as her spirit passed behind Wren’s head. Another spirit hovered above Kanjigar himself. 

“Her heart is too soft for this, even Merlin would see that...” he mumbled out. Kanjigar gave Wren a hard look as she spoke up again. 

“Yet I’m still here, alive, unlike _you_ lot.” Wren spat, ignoring the hisses around her from such a taunt. “Look, things are changing, so much so that I saw a Changeling attack Bular with my own eyes, unprompted.” 

“A changeling who tricked and lied to my son -- _your_ husband -- and killed your own childhood friend!” Kanjigar argued, leaning in towards Wren now. “Is this who you wish to ally with?!” 

“You allied with Argh!” Wren said, losing her own cool now. “Is he any different? You trusted him with your life but you can’t trust me with my own?!” 

“You risk lives not your own everyday with your nonsense ideas and plans!” Knajigar boomed now, stepping to the side as smoke swirled and formed scenes from the not-so-distant past. In it, Wren saw flashbacks of her first days and weeks as Trollhunter: of taking the boys on stake outs, of fighting Nomura in Eli’s own home, of fighting Stricker at Jim’s home, and finally, of Draal losing his arm in battle against Bular to protect Wren. She shook with anger. 

“How _dare_ you.” Wren growled, facing Kanjigar again. “Draal was a warrior well before I took this mantle, he knows the risk of battle more than anyone! You would try and pit that against me? His own wife?” 

Kanjigar’s face fell, not in shame or recognition for his fault, but in understanding. “My own wife was a warrior as well, and fell all the same.” 

Wren’s eyes narrowed. “And what does that have to do with me?” 

“Ballustra died on her own terms in a battle that she chose; but this is not Draal’s battle, it is your _own._ ” 

Wren looked unsettled with that claim, and so Kanjigar did not stop. 

“You know how desperately loyal Draal is, how willing he is to put his neck into danger for something as little as a slight against his honor, or that of a loved one’s. How far do you think he is willing to go to fight by your side, to defend you and _die_ for you?” 

“As far as he is willing to choose for himself.” Wren said, fiercely willing to fight back the tears in her eyes. They stared at one another for a moment, before Kanjigar sighed and looked away. 

“So be it, Cleaver. But the burden of his choices shall lay on your shoulders, not just his own.” 

“I’ll let him know you said that.” Wren responded, also calm, but without any warmth. Kanjigar turned away from her, and the world around her shifted and zapped with energy, before she found herself facing her friends again. 

The ground was...more obvious in the real world, as Wren discovered, and that got her off her center for a bit. Draal and Blinky helped her up, and she barely registered the questions thrown at her by the human whelps. 

None of it registered with Wren, who wiped away the wetness from her eyes and looked at them all with a steely face. 

“I’m fine. But I do have orders to give.” 

That snapped them all to silent attention -- even Claire kept her mouth shut. Taking in a steady breath, Wren began her list. 

“Frek, you’re a decent enough folklorist. Teach Claire and the other whelps all you can about troll culture. I don’t just want them to know about trolls -- I want them to know how to _be_ trolls.” 

“Uh, yes, of course.” Frek stumbled out in reply, glancing towards said children. Wren then turned to her trainer and his close friend. 

“Blinky, speak with the city guards and matrons of the market about the Changeling integration. I want one guard and one upstanding citizen for each Changeling prisoner, to better help them and protect them as they become one of us. If anyone causes any trouble, I’ll handle them _personally_. I want those Changelings out of their cells starting today.” 

“Of course, Master Wren.” Blinky said with a hand to his forehead. If he was shocked at her sudden change in attitude, he did not show it as he rushed off. Argh straightened a little in curiosity as he awaited his own orders. 

“Argh, I want you to speak with the Changelings. Tell them that they are free as of today, under my conditions for integration.” Wren loosened up a little. “I...I trust you with them. And not just because you are pacifist.” 

The gentle giant rumbled with a knowing smile, nodded, and turned to make his own leave. By then, Frek had lead the fleshwhelps had taken them far away from the Forge, to begin whatever lesson he could think up on the spot for them. That left just Wren and Draal. All alone. With no one to watch her tear up, call off her armor, and finally cry. 

“Draal...” 

Deya bless him, by now he fully understood and long accepted her soft heart. Wren sighed at the comfort of his offered embrace, crying quietly into his chest. They stood that way for a while, before Wren sniffled less and finally straightened up to face him. 

“I’m sorry, I just had to let that out.” 

He nuzzled her nose. “I don’t fault you, my sweet. But, I can’t help but wonder...” 

It hung so obviously in the air, that Wren could have cut it with her sword of Daylight. “Um...he did mention you, but not pleasantly. He’s more mad at me, though.” 

“Let him be mad, then.” Draal said with a grimace. “He made his choices, and now I am making mine.” 

Wren laughed a little, hugging him again. “Oh he’s probably seething up in the Void as we speak, hearing you say that.” 

“Let him seethe.” Draal snickered. But then, his smile dropped a little. “I don’t mean that to upset him, or dishonor him, but...I do wish I had your fortitude, when my father chose to push me away. I’m just grateful you’re sticking by my side. I don't doubt he tried to bully you into keeping me away." 

“You needn't ever fear about that.” Wren said, now nuzzling him again. She then stepped back finally and lead him out. “There is one other thing I need to do, though.” 

“Oh? And what are your orders for me, my sweet?” 

“I saw the cutest whelp booties the other day, and we’re going to buy them before someone else snatches them up.” 


	3. Right Under Their Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite trouble with the Changelings, Wren manages to move forward her plan for integration. Meanwhile, a shadowy force waits for a chance to strike, an old enemy in plain sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a fan of this chapter but it was necessary for moving the plot along, establishing character roles and all that. 
> 
> And don't worry, you'll see more of Strickler next chapter. ;)

Without stopping, Wren went straight from shopping around the market with Draal to arranging everything in the new nursery. There were certainly whispers around them when they were out in public, some folks even daring to take a closer look at the Trollhunter’s belly for any sign of a bump. Even Draal became suspect at the sudden desire to put together a future whelp’s room.

“I’ll bite.” Draal said with a toothy smile, as Wren fussed with a sought-after bassinet, handcrafted by Bagdwella herself. “You’re not _actually_ with child, are you?”

“I wish I were.” Wren said, a sad smile on her face. “But I’m trying not to let myself give up hope. It’ll happen somehow, one of these days.”

Draal sat down next to her on the rug made of tire shreds, and pulled her into his lap, away from her fussy work with the little bassinet. “I still say we should try growing one from our living stone. It’s how I came about, you know.”

“I know, but I’ve only got the one.” Wren said, laying against him. A hand of hers drew up to rub the spot at the center of her chest. Even now, after marrying and becoming a well-respected warrior, Wren still did not get any chiseled designs on her body; the reasons were many, but one was that she was deathly scared of accidentally crumbling her one and only – and very fragile – living stone.

Draal of course had many, and Wren found herself slightly jealous, as well as relieved, at the fact. At least one of them was fully healthy.

“I still say we should give it a try, if we must.” Draal put forth more carefully now. “Even fertile warrior women choose that first over carrying a whelp the old-fashioned way. Easier to go to war and all.”

Wren chuckled. “It’s a thought…I’ll think about it. But for now, wish my belly some luck.”

A large, mechanical hand of magical gold splayed out it’s three-fingered hand, and laid itself over Wren’s very flat midsection. With a very serious tone, Draal said, “May the luck of the Fates fill you with good will as much as it would a good child.”

Wren laughed at that, enjoying a friendly nuzzle from her husband as he tried his best to lead her towards their nesting room. Giggles and shrieks and laughter followed suit as they found themselves entangled in their bedding, only to be interrupted by a fervent knock to their front door. Wren shot up, straddling Draal’s lap, and gave him a questioning look. He smirked and leaned back with his hands behind his head.

“Go on ahead; I can wait all the ages for you, if I must.”

“Since when were you so poetic?” Wren said with a grin. She quickly threw on a leather dress, and did not even bother taming her short hair when she opened the entry way. Blinky stood there before her, cheeks puffing as if he were a child caught doing something bad. It then occurred to her that a couple guards were with him.

“…Blinky, where are the Changelings?”

—-

“Strickler got away?!” Wren shouted in shock. She, Draal, and Frek met up in the library, where Argh waited for them with Blinky. In the shadowy corner, where Nomura leaned against the wall, looking almost disinterested.

“He would have gone to a hideaway in Argentina, knowing him.” Nomura spoke up now, looking over a book that caught her eye. “I mean, if you want to give chase.”

“But _you_ did not give chase.” Blinky pointed out, striding over to her now. “Why stay here when your ally rushed off?”

“Changelings have no allies. Or did you not realize that, when I was met with fists and slurs the moment I said hello to the first troll I met?”

Wren flushed in anger. “Who did such things to you?! I gave strict orders for you to not be harmed! You and Strickler both!”

“Well I suppose Strickler didn’t trust your word on that. One swing from your friendly local troll, and he used that opportunity to run off.” Nomura sighed, closing the book to look at the title. “You, librarian, am I allowed to check books out?”

Blinky fluttered his six eyes at the sudden change in subject. “I, well, only I or Vendel are allowed to take and leave books as we please, though you are more than welcome to read when you visit.”

Frek stepped forward now, looking hesitant. “Look, if this Strickler Changeling is on the run, shouldn’t we go after him? Wouldn’t he be a danger?”

“No,” Argh huffed, “Gone too long, not useful anymore.”

The others gave him puzzling looks, Nomura more absorbed in reading her book, so Argh continued to clarify for her. “Gumm Gumm way. Taken prisoner, as good as dead. No turning back.”

“Oh, swell.” Wren deadpanned. “So what about you, Nomura? You want to run still?”

Nomura looked up from the page she had been deciphering. “Me? What about me?”

“If what Argh says is true, I can let you go, no strings attached; you would not be a danger to Trollmarket or Arcadia if I allowed such a thing to happen – that is, if that’s what you want.”

The book was closed and held to her side. “If I want?”

Nomura stayed silent a moment before she answered. “I guess I’m clinically insane. I wish to stay.”

“Oh good, only one to worry about then.” Blinky grumbled. Wren nodded.

“Good! You’re in charge of her.”

He choked on himself as Nomura snickered. There was shuffling behind Wren as Draal shifted in discomfort. It suddenly occurred to Wren that he had been in the same room as his treacherous ex for longer than she realized.

The elephant in the room exposed, Wren wrapped it up.

“So it’s settled. We’ll let Strickler stay on the run. Nomura stays here under Blinky’s guidance, with Argh to guard until we feel it’s no longer necessary.”

Wren then straightened out her dress and started to walk out. “And now _I_ have an Elder to consult with.”

—-

He had been in the Indian jungles for longer than he cared to think about. His stone body ached from unused magic and literal rot, seeping into his aging joints and limbs as he remained chained, magically and literally, in the temple his own tribe stole him away within during the war with Gunmar.

Angor Rot supposed that he did not win – not only because the world had yet to be ravaged on the surface, but also because he had the ‘pleasure’ of becoming freed by an Impure spy.

A very _annoying_ Changeling spy, who freed him, wore _his_ appreciate time spent here, to—“

“You don’t want me out in public.”

Blinky scoffed but did not look at her, crossing his arms. “It…that may have played a part in allowing you in my library, yes…”

Nomura grinned still, but it was more genuine: a growing smile of amusement at Blinky’s expense. By now Argh stepped away to the side to let them handle their ‘discussion’, knowing that his friend was practically fuming.

“You insufferable dame! You are mocking me!”

“Am not.”

“You most certainly are, and that is final!” Blinky growled. A bag of his was snatched up as a few personal items were hastily thrown in. “So final, in fact, that your nonsense has made me parched. I hope you like your glug hard.”

So to Glug’s pub it was. Nomura took careful note of the streets and cave-like buildings around them, of which trolls ignored her and which ones gave her dirty looks. That was fine — she did not much care for them either. Not that she didn’t take advantage of her large Krubera trolll guard by being overtly friendly to a few passerby. Even as a pacifist, Argh’s history as a Gumm Gumm warrior was fresh in their minds.

Perhaps that runt of a Trollhunter thought being around a fellow ex-con of sorts would be helpful for Nomura’s “integration” – however it was supposed to happen. She did not need convincing to turn back to the Janus Order _or_ the Gumm Gumm army, but Nomura has plans to hike her way to the underwater caves in Belize. Walking amongst those who would snap her neck the second she lost favor with Wren or her ilk wasn’t as nice as secluded caverns.

And yet…Nomura stayed. She stayed even when Blinky constantly nagged her about this or that troll law, or badgered her about a human habit she did that would come off the wrong way with other citizens. And now, she was even sharing a round of drinks with the troll and his behemoth of a companion.

“You know, librarian, I suppose I have been giving you too much to work with. Even my human families growing up thought I was a rascal.”

“ _Historian_ , actually. Utilizing the library sciences is merely a prerequisite for the work I do.” Blinky corrected with a swig of his glug. Nomura rolled her eyes.

“I’m just trying to make nice here, seeing as I am stuck and all.”

Blinky rose a brow. “You most certainly are not, seeing as our Trollhunter has given you ample opportunity to leave us had you wished.”

“And you didn’t.” Argh rumbled with a friend-winning smile. Nomura breathed in and out of her nose, fiddling with the handle to her tankard.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Forgive me for imposing, though I suppose it is my job to impose upon you anyway; but, I must know – why choose to stay here? In Trollmarket?” Blinky asked her pointedly, though not in malice. Nomura sighed and pushed her glug away.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“I don’t suppose turning on Bular during the battle had anything to do with–”

“I _said,_ ” Nomura spat, “that I am _figuring it out._ ”

Blinky hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the Changeling woman carefully. Or at least, mostly eyeing her. At least two other eyes roamed a little whenever a patron of the pub wandered a little too close to their table, knowing one may try and make a move, or do something stupid regardless.

“Forgive me then, Miss Nomura.” Blinky conceded gently, now putting on a smile of his own. “Perhaps we shall talk of your training with me.”

Nomura gave him a look and he chuckled.

“No no! You are training under my tutelage! Starting now, I must ascertain what your particular skillset for Trollmarket shall become. You are an intelligent woman, and not one I will underestimate.”

Argh snuck Nomura’s unused tankard away from her to steal the rest of it, as she replied to her new ‘mentor’.

“I don’t know whether to accept your compliment, or tell you that you’re smart for not trusting me.”

“I never said I don’t trust you, though I am…slowly learning to, at the least.” Blinky admitted. He pushed his own empty tankard away. “Just as you must learn to trust us. By staying here with our tribe, you have already shown that the initial seed of it has been planted. I hope, as well as _trust_ , that you will do what you need to allow that trust to grow.”

Nomura glanced away, thinking about it. She already dug herself in deep by now – there certainly was no turning back.

And the longer she focused on whatever apprenticeship Blinky offered for her, the longer she could ignore the bizarre feelings she suppressed concerning her betrayal of Bular, and her fellow Changelings.

“Alright then…where to first, historian?”

—-

Eli grew giddy – every morning it was the same. He’d get ready for school, meet up with the others to walk, and try to catch glances to the side of the roads and streets where there were shadows. Sure, he couldn’t actually _see_ Frek in them, he was far too good at hiding, even for a troll. He was most certainly there, though, and knowing that Frek walked with him to school during the week was Eli’s joy.

“Oh! Wait! Gotta tie my shoe!” Eli announced suddenly, dropping down just at a crosswalk. While the others waited as they continued their conversation, the boy fiddled with his sneakers until they were tight on again. A brief look upwards, and that was when he saw him.

Eli smiled and almost waved, but then suddenly stopped.

The figure in the alleyway _resembled_ Frek, but was not Frek at all. Both were tall and lithe, but this figure was much more broad-shouldered and covered in more of the vine-like knots that Frek only had a little of. His shade of beige was also darker – more grey and ashy – and his horns framed his face like a pyramid, rather than a goat. Eli’s voice caught in his throat, wondering if he had seen the troll before, but instead turned to Toby when he called for him.

“Yo, lil dude! You done yet?”

Eli looked back into the alleyway, and the mystery troll was gone. He felt his stomach go unsettled, but hurried up to make it to school with the others.

“Ugh, Mr. Mueller is gonna kill us.” Claire said, looking at her phone. “He’s even worse than Strickler was.”

“Strickler was a troll demon who tried to kill Wren.” Jim said with mixed amusement and bitterness. “I’m pretty sure a some pudgy German guy with a stupid list of rules isn’t the worst in the world.”

“I can’t believe he just up and ran.” Toby said, curious. “Wren said she wasn’t gonna hurt him or Nomura.”

“She should have – Strickler, at least.” Jim said with a frown now. “I can’t believe I let him use me like that…”

Claire entwined an arm with Jim’s. “Hey, c’mon, he’s out of the picture now. And we don’t have to worry about evil trolls or bridge, ever. Maybe Señor Uhl’s quiz for today, but not any world-ending stuff.”

Jim gasped and grabbed at his head. “That was _today?!_ ”

The four friends all continued their babbles, though Eli still could not get the sight of that mystery troll out of his head. He soon had to though, because just as he sent the text to ‘Sadia Ali’s’ number, Mr. Mueller himself caught sight of the phone and held out a basket.

“You know the rules, mein freund. No tech!”

“Aw…” Eli whined, but did as he was told. The basket was placed onto Mr Mueller’s desk. Although his hair was a beat red and hardly looked intimidating, the students long since learned that the man demanded order and executed it to the letter.

“Now open up to the chapter from yesterday, and regroup with your partners.” Mr. Mueller began, taking a seat at his desk. “We’ll go over the next step of our project after a quick review.”

They did so, the class now filled with distracted, mild chatter, and allowing Mr. Mueller just enough distraction to peer into Eli’s phone. The number was noted down before he carefully placed the phone back in.

His eyes flashed a yellow glint, lasting only a fraction of a second, as they glanced over Jim and Toby.

It was going to be a long, long game, but it was one he would win – for the glory of Gunmar.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long lost brother comes for a visit, just as new roles and troubles within the Trollhunting team are formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I don't like so much. By chapter five or so we shall see more action, promise!

“You insufferable minx of a dame! How _could_ you?!”

“It’s called the Dewey Decimal System, historian. The least you could do is thank me.” Nomura said with annoyance. It was back to the library, and there she had worked since they returned from the pub. At least, she did have errands and jobs to do outside of it, when the time came, but stuck in the library it continued to be – and Nomura figured if this was her prison cell 2.0, then she’d at least make it liveable.

And – like the typical man Nomura often came across while working with humans – Blinky hated it.

“I had a system in place already! Your efforts to slow my research is more than obvious!” Blinky huffed, now rubbing his cheeks in dismay to look over the well-kept rows of books. He groaned. “And now I can’t find _anything!_ ”

Nomura rolled her eyes. “Just tell me which book you are looking for. I can get it for you.”

Blinky glared at her. “You really think you can, in _this_ mess?!”

“Try me.” Nomura shot back with a grin. Blinky flushed and crossed his arms.

“Oh goodness gracious, I leave for _one_ bathroom break…” Blinky grumbled under his breath, looking at the labeled bookshelves again. “Alright, I’ll jump in cold turkey, as the humans say. Where would one find a copy of _The Scholar’s Guide to the Ithylian Heresies?_ ”

Walking over to a set of cabinets that had not been there before, Nomura looked through the labels of the Trollish Alphabet and hieroglyphics. A long, fuschia finger rapped down to the proper drawer, and opened it. A few cards were pushed away until she came across three different cards, with the same title but with different authors.

“Dictatious, Kilfred, or….Kanjigar? Really?” Nomura said with some surprise. Blinky chuckled a little, precious memories of his old friend resurfacing in his mind.

“Ah, yes, Kanjigar made a fine scholar before the Amulet called for him. Vendel’s own father initiated him into the Scholar’s Guild. Though, he hated his particular copy of the topic – he rather admired the Ithylian pantheon himself and felt his own contribution inadequat.”

“And here I thought trolls hated to worship a sun goddess.” Nomura said with genuine interest, making note to read something of the deity and her followers later. “So, which is it then?”

“Dictatious, of course. Another fine scholar as well as my elder brother.”

Nomura handed him the card. “Just follow the color code on this and you’ll find it in numerical order on the shelf.”

Blinky read the card, turned his head to where the shelf was, and looked….surprised. “That simple?”

“Trust me, humans have plenty of innovations you need to use in this pigsty.” Nomura said. “You know, like indoor plumbing, or a radio.”

“A radio you say!” Blinky said, as he had a broken one he’d been meaning to fix. Knowing full well that it sat on the shelf just behind her, Nomura waved him off and turned to do something else.

“No, nuh uh, I’d rather fetch the tea. You have fun, though. And be sure to put that card back in the drawer when you are done with the book.”

Blinky not only looked mildly disappointed, watching her go to his little hidden kitchen – but also felt it too. That surprised him.

“Oh, well, carry on then…I’ll be fiddling with the radio regardless, if you ever…change your mind…”

But Nomura was already gone. Blinky sighed, figuring _of COURSE she wouldn’t care, she’s lived as a human, she knows all about radios already._

Working with the Changeling was…challenging, but Blinky loved a good challenge, and Nomura had yet to actually fail him or the Trollhunter in any way. If he had the forethought to actually comment at the time, Blinky would have further complimented on this “Dewey Decimal System” that she put together for him. Even if it was upsetting that his own system was in deseray.

No matter. It was merely day one of Nomura’s training, and she was taking it fairly well, all things considered. Still, Blinky wondered what went on in that head of hers, knowing how much she had to leave behind just to make home in Trollmarket.

Another problem for another day. And with that, Blinky sat aside the book for later use, turning instead to the radio; he continued to work, unawares that a pair of green eyes watched him from the darker corners of his library before going off to start a kettle of tea.

—-

“Dammit!” Strickler spat, throwing down his hat in anger. It had been risky to travel to Angor’s Temple all alone, and without the Inferna Copula at that. But, it turned out to be a needless worry – for Angor was not there.

“Be wary, human.” Junter son of Kref warned, unaware of his Changeling status. “Even with the Assassin gone, his magicks are powerful here.”

Strickler sniffed in annoyance, choosing to look around the dank, empty chamber instead of replying smartly. The tribe of goldsmiths were a private group that rarely received news from outside trolls, and he had no reason to make them wary of his knowledge on all things trollish. No one recognized him here and he intended to keep it that way.

“Very well then.” he answered evenly. “I…thank you, for helping me how you can.”

“Instead of killing you on sight? Any day.” Junter joked, throwing on a friendly smirk that reminded Strickler of that ridiculous brother of his, Frek. “But I do wonder, and I demand to know as son of the Elder stationed to guard here: how did you learn of Angor Rot?”

“Even humans have their secrets, as do trolls.” Strickler told him. “But if _you _want to avoid the wrath and punishment of your father, then perhaps I can help you reobtain Angor.”__

__Junter’s spear was slammed into the stone floor threateningly, ignoring his own warning of the magic present. “That is no small matter, for human _or_ troll. If you value your life, then stay out of this mess.”_ _

__“I have something I value more than my life.” Strickler snapped back, putting his hat back on and desperately trying not to allow Barbara’s visage to return to his mind’s eye. “And to _get_ to that, I need your help, just as _you_ need mine.”_ _

__Before Junter could respond, Strickler took out something from his coat pocket; in his hand, he held out a cut gem. It was a bright, shining blue crystal, four jutting, blade-like crystals sticking out round it. It’s raw power practically pulsed off in wave at the troll._ _

__Junter gasped and knelt before it. “ _Where and how did you get that?_ ”_ _

__It was Strickler’s turn to smirk. “All in good time. But first, you listen to _me_ , do you understand?”_ _

__Junter growled. If he had hair, the hackles would have risen up. Only the terror and magic of the stone itself kept the devout believer in his place. “You hold the Eye of Gunmar in your fleshy, weak hands and make demands of me?!”_ _

__“The Eye of Gunmar only affects trolls, not humans.” Strickler said, holding out his arm further. “And I have what you need to bring Angor Rot back to his prison, and prevent the tarnishing of your honor. So what is your answer?”_ _

__A snort and another growl, and Junter backed up a little to stand back up, and put his spear onto his back. “You know my answer, fleshbag. But you better hope your power over me will end before I find a way to do away with you.”_ _

__“That won’t be necessary.” Strickler waved off as he pocketed the stone. “And with your brother in Trollmarket, this will make your job all the more easier. Is it a deal?”_ _

__It _was_ a deal, and Junter hated every second of it._ _

__—-_ _

__“Keep your eyes open!” Wren shouted over the roar of incoming goblins. The whole Trollhunting team fought in the school field, Claire screaming as she threw another rock and hit another target. All things considered, the girl was… _okay_ at this, Wren had been much worse before training herself, but she was clearly overwhelmed._ _

__It was not supposed to be a dangerous mission. A quick scouting of the area to see if they could find Eli’s mystery troll, and leave it at that. Frek himself had not seen anyone or anything – but how he missed a horde of goblins was anyone’s guess._ _

__“I specifically placed anti-goblin runes around this school for this exact reason!” Frek shouted in annoyance, slicing through more of the green hellions with his boomerang. Just as he grabbed it back, he roundhouse kicked one that tried to jump him. Draal rolled his way through a small group, landing back on his feet with mashed goblin mush on his back._ _

__“ _WELL IT DIDN’T WORK VERY WELL DID IT?!_ ”_ _

__They continued to bicker and fight, but at least the boys faired well; even Claire was looking to get the hang of things, having grabbed a stick to whack her enemies rather than stone them. Wren would have felt proud of their work had she not been cutting down her own few combatants._ _

__The few became many, however. Wren gave a rare roar and began going into a frenzy, swinging and gliding left and right to cut down as many as she could. Even with Draal and Frek, even with the boys helping, they were still down and out two trolls: Blinky and Argh. Just as she began regretting the new role she gave them for Nomura, another figure swooped in from the school rooftops just as they were growing overwhelmed._ _

__A spear came forth into the troll’s grip, and while Wren took a stance in the muddy field to prepare for a parry, the weapon was not aimed for her or any one else but the goblins._ _

__Like Frek’s boomerang, the spear would be thrown out, only to zip back into his grip. A green, glittering trail of magic followed it like a shadow, and at one point, was even guided in different directions by similar green magic present in the fighter’s palms. In mere seconds, the goblin horde was utterly decimated._ _

__Not that Wren let her guard down. She pointed her Sword of Daylight straight at him with narrowed and untrusting eyes._ _

__“State your name and business!”_ _

__“Junter.” Frek answered for the two of them. He stepped towards him, fists clenching. “Mind telling me why you were stalking my human charge?”_ _

__Wren eyed the assassin carefully. She would not shed blood if it could be avoided so she tried to step in and calm things down. “Do you know him?”_ _

__“I would hope so! He is my brother.” Junter said with a smile, exposed as soon as he took off his hood. Wren immediately saw many of Frek’s features in him, most prominently his horns and coloring, though his face was wider and jaw more pronounced. “And if your flesh friends saw me, then I apologize. I had no idea I was even spotted.”_ _

__He then coughed and put away his spear, the magic dying down as soon as it was sheathed on his back. “Ah, forgive me. I have become too friendly. Yes, I am Junter, son of Kref. My business here is a familial one.”_ _

__“Bugger off then, there’s no family here.” Frek snapped. Eli stepped next to him to hold his arm._ _

__“Maybe we shouldn’t pick a fight, he’s not threatening us, right?”_ _

__Wren sighed. “I agree with Elijah. So no fighting.”_ _

__She gave a hard look to both Frek and Draal, knowing that whatever one did, the other followed loyally. Dunderheads, the both of them, but at least they followed _her_ orders before their own._ _

__“As you will it, Hunter.” Frek said, clearly not liking it but allowing Wren to take over completely._ _

__“Welcome to Arcadia, Junter, but perhaps you came for Hearstone Trollmarket, rather than a human town.”_ _

__“Indeed. Despite the…bad blood, between my family and Frek, I wish to visit here, see what amends could be made.”_ _

__“Any who wish for peace is more than joyfully accepted.” Wren added, before either of her warriors had the nerve to say anything else. “Follow me, then.”_ _

__Back in Trollmarket, the humans crowded into Blinky’s library to update him, Argh, and even Nomura of everything that happened on their scouting mission. Meanwhile, Wren took off her armor, and lead her husband and friends to the Heartstone. Just as she thought, Vendel was working within, a few stones and potions laid out over his work table. Junter almost closed his eyes at the powerful warmth of the Heartstone, only to jolt them open again at Vendel’s shocked yet delighted greeting._ _

__“Junter, you scamp!” Vendel said with rare laughter. He opened his arms, sharing a firm shared grip of one another’s arms and shoulders in greeting. “I remember when I helped your mother birth you, Kref was so mad that he missed catching you.”_ _

__“Not in front of everyone, my friend!” Junter laughed as well. “Myleth and Kref both send their greetings.”_ _

__“As busy as I am, no doubt. I’d have to host a full on Pyroglist Tournament to drag that coot from his own arena. But what brings you here?”_ _

__Wren, holding onto Draal’s arm, answered. “He was in town for personal reasons. In fact, he was first seen by my human patrol. Not bad, huh?”_ _

__“Yes yes, they have your uses, you’ve made your point. But _you_ , Junter, must fill me in on everything. I’m afraid Myleth’s eye sight grows worse, her letters have to be dictated now, and you know how private she is.”_ _

__“She does hate her scribe, now that you mention it.” Junter laughed, and the two walked out of the chamber without any sort of mention of the others. Frek was fuming, watching them walk away._ _

__“Huh. Normally Papa has to complain about something or other when I’m around.” Wren mentioned to them. “I guess Junter visiting has its perks.”_ _

__“Hm.” Draal said, carefully eyeing Frek. “Er, you know, I’m sure you’d, uh, want to go with them.”_ _

__“What are you? A fool? I’m not staying in that cretin’s presence!” Frek snapped, already storming out of the chamber now that his job for the night was finished. “I have to find Eli. His curfew is near.”_ _

__Wren sighed as she watched him leave. “I was hoping he would want to speak with his brother, at the least.”_ _

__“No, that would have ended badly.” Draal said, walking with her to their home. “Frek told me of his brothers before.”_ _

__“What did he say?”_ _

__“Not much, and he never brought them up again. All I can say is, Frek has his reasons to hate them.”_ _

__Hate was a strong word, in Wren’s opinion, not that she had any right to say so. After all, had she not once hated Nomura? But that was different, when Wren thought about it: Nomura changed, and thus so did Wren’s feelings about her. Not to mention, Wren could never imagine hating ones own kin, not even she could find herself hating her strict and overbearing Papa._ _

__Then again, there was a lot about Frek that he kept to himself. Wren wondered how much he ever shared with her, concerning his old life._ _

__“No funny ideas, Wren. I know that look.” Draal said with a chuff. Wren giggled a little and brought him inside, where they sat down for a well-earned meal._ _

__“No ideas, just thinking. I’m just glad there wasn’t anyone dangerous out there.”_ _

__“True enough.” Draal said with a smile, pouring them both some glug. Wren pursed her lips at that, and he noticed. “What? This is your favorite. Glug even added the spices you liked.”_ _

__“I read somewhere that glug can actually affect the womb.” Wren said sheepishly, knowing that the glug had been a wedding gift, and one that Draal had loved greatly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I feel like there is so much about this whelp nonsense that I can’t do, I might as well cut out glug too.”_ _

__Draal gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t beat yourself up, my sweet. I know this is important to you.”_ _

__Wren bit her lip. “It’s important for you too, right?”_ _

__There wasn’t an immediate answer, as Draal chose to drink instead. “It’s important to me that we do what we can to start a family. But I worry about how you’re driving yourself up a wall. You still move and talk in your sleep.”_ _

__“I…okay, yes, but…”_ _

__“You drink numerous teas and potions to sleep and reclaim some kind of miracle that I don’t know if you can grasp at.” Draal finally said, setting down his tankard nervously. As he feared, Wren was affronted._ _

__“I…I am doing what I can for this baby that you say you want so much!” Wren said, hands out in exasperation. “All the research, all the herbs and magicks – it’s been me!”_ _

__“Yes, I know that.” Draal put in, trying not to lose his patience. “But what if its…I dunno, not meant to be this way? What if all the magic and healing in the world _can’t_ help you?”_ _

__Wren did not even answer that, and stomped off to the nursery. She left the curtain closed, so Draal followed her and continued to speak, hoping she was listening._ _

__“Wren, I didn’t mean it like that!”_ _

__“You said it!” came a muffled reply. Draal rubbed his face, tired and worn from battle and now this._ _

__“So I’m stupid! You know this!” he said more sternly now. “I just…I hate seeing you like this! So desperate and miserable but acting like it’s not hurting you!”_ _

__There was silence. Draal continued, trying to soften his tone._ _

__“I’m not saying it won’t ever happen. I’m certainly no seer. But…my sweet, this isn’t you. Don’t drown yourself like this. I want to see you smiling again. Dancing and enjoying your life, like before. When was the last time you slept and woke up loving the morning, or bothering me about going on another of those dates we used to have?”_ _

__More silence, though Draal caught wind of the salty smell of tears. He poked his head into the dim room, and saw Wren shivering and crying into the bassinet. She brought up her head to look at him when he sat by her._ _

__A hand wiped away a tear, and Wren held back a whimper._ _

__“Draal…I just want a whelp. I want to have _your_ whelp. _Our_ whelp! Why is this so _hard?_ ”_ _

__“I don’t know.” Draal answered truthfully, the despair filling him too. He had his own ways of dealing with such emotions, and he knew he could handle them later. But at that moment, his wife needed him. So many tears just this past month, and Draal felt helpless to stop them for good._ _

__—-_ _

__Junter genuinely liked Vendel: he always had. Stern but witty, the old troll had more than just history with his family. Vendel and Kref had always been friends and that meant, by the honor code, that he was friend too._ _

__Too bad he was here on a mission. Even Vendel’s new wife, Rika, and her charm, were not enough to distract him from that._ _

__“Your daughter impresses me, if I may say so as a fellow warrior.” Junter noted, taking a drink of the glug served to him in Vendel’s home. Vendel grinned proudly at the praise._ _

__“You may, of course.”_ _

__“Don’t let your head grow too large, or else it’ll be heavier than those horns of yours.” Rika teased, taking a seat now herself. “Now Junter, why are you visiting? Something about your brother?”_ _

__“More or less.” Junter admitted, not really drinking anything. “He is still technically exiled from our tribe, though his honor has been regained here. And our mother always worried for him.”_ _

__“He’s fit in the Trollhunting team rather well.” Vendel explained. “Wren’s made good use of him, I’m sure.”_ _

__“I saw the boy follow her orders without much fuss.” Junter remarked with genuine surprise this time._ _

__Vendel chuckled at that. “Well, considering she is the reason he is alive and bearing honor again, I don’t doubt Frek is loyal to my Wren.”_ _

__“It’s hard not to be, after everything.” Rika added. “She is dear to us. We are happy to hear that you approve of her.”_ _

__Junter continued their banter for a while after, discussing family gossip and news. And only that. The troll feared that Strickler would be upset with such little progress, but he looked unsurprised._ _

__“You’ve gained their trust – that is good. Perhaps this brother of yours can prove useful.”_ _

__Strickler walked over, away from the sewer entrance where they met, to look more closely as the sun rose. Junter crossed his arms._ _

__“Why? Because of his connections with the Trollhunter?”_ _

__“And with Angor Rot himself.” Strickler said, turning back to Junter. The reds and blazing oranges outlined his wiry frame. “Have you not considered the magical implications of Frek being the thirteenth son of a thirteenth son?”_ _

__Junter stiffened a little. “Kref is an only child, of–”_ _

__“You trolls have your secrets, just as humans do.” Strickler said with a smirk. “And even secrets pulse with magical energy, a beacon that even Angor Rot can not ignore – especially if that magic could free him.”_ _

__Oh, Junter _hated_ this fleshy human. “Frek would never help Rot or whomever holds him captive now.”_ _

__“I never said he would help willingly.” Strickler said, effectively ending the conversation and handing him a paper cup. “Coffee? It’s a rather robust drink the humans came up with centuries ago. It’ll lift your sour spirits.”_ _

__“Keep your fleshbag potions to yourself.” Junter spat. Strickler hummed in amusement and drank it himself._ _

__“As you wish. Now go find Angor Rot – I don’t doubt he will work during the daylight.”_ _

__That was that, and Junter, still tired from his journey here, went to work._ _


	5. Onwards!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren finally finds sorely needed answers she has been looking for, and finds herself spiraling into a chain of events she has yet to discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we will def see more action next chapter and I hope that it won't slow down from there :D I've been soooo impatient to get to Gatto, he is so fun to write for.

Barbara held her breath. For the briefest moment, she could have sworn that she was late for her shift at the ER -- only to recall that she was in week two of her revised, part-time schedule.

Breath out now, she took that moment to savor her morning coffee. Working for the hospital as long as she did, for as much as she did, was not going to wear off right away, but it was still annoying as hell.

And then there was Walt, of all people, to consider as well.

They never had anything _official_ per se, yet it still stung so terribly when the man up and left without a trace. No good byes, no messages even -- it was a straight up ghosting. A ghosting that opened up old wounds.

Still, they had nothing before aside from flirting and a few chats. So when Walt appeared on her doorstep one morning, with fresh flowers and a cup of her favorite coffee from the local cafe, Barbara decided to (tentatively) give him another chance.

“Are you alright?” Walt asked, brows knotted in confusion at Barbara’s sudden tensing shoulders. She smiled.

“No, of course. I’m just on a new schedule at the hospital, still getting used to it. I swear, those oddball shifts are ingrained into my brain.”

“I’m...getting used to some things, as well.” Walt admitted, carefully. “I did not mean to leave you so suddenly, and without a proper good bye. Even so, I owe you an apology for my abrupt disappearance.”

“You’re kind to apologize for that.” Barbara said. Somehow, that loosened her up so much more around him. “Though I wonder, what are you doing here now?”

“Tying loose ends. Particularly, seeing if our ends will converge together again.” Walt said, carefully taking a hand in hers. Again, Barbara held her breath, her heart going a mile a minute and her head reeling.

_Calm down for goodness sakes! It only just started!...Whatever ‘it’ is,_ the woman chided to herself. Still, she kept at her smile. Walt was the most gentleman-like and kindly person she ever met, one that even her son had looked up to.

So of course she wanted to make this work. Of course she wanted to show the best of herself. Barbara hadn’t that luxury for the longest time.

“I...I would like that.” she finally said, looking down at where their hands touched on the kitchen counter. Walt stepped closer.

“It’s more than I deserve.” he admitted, eyes looking over her face. And Barbara had no idea how right he was.

\----

Another nightmare. Another fervent wake up. This time, Draal was prepared.

“I’m here, my sweet.” Draal hushed to her, holding Wren close. “I’m here.”

“I should have taken that sleep potion.” Wren groaned, almost forgetting how horrible those dreams were. “I don’t know why I have them, it’s not like it matters...”

“You could...well, you know...”

Wren huffed, burrowing her face into the crook of his arm as she laid about his lap. “I’m not going back to the Void.”

“I don’t like the idea either, but they see things living mortals can not.” Draal explained, petting her short but growing hair. “Besides, you need to tell of my father for letting those ghosts bully you.”

A snort was let out, and finally Wren sat up. “Fine, I’ll do it, my warrior. But only because it’s _you_ telling me.”

Face softening, Wren then added, “Anything else you want me to tell your father? I know despite everything, you still miss him.”

Draal let out a sigh. “I just wish he would admit that he pushed me away in vain. I would have rather he died by my side in battle, than alone under some bridge.”

The venom in Draal’s voice was not missed. Before Wren could soothe him, Draal looked into her own golden eyes with his orange-yellow ones, and said, “So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m still terribly depressed about the whole barreness thing, if that’s what you’re asking.” Wren answered dryly. “I don’t think that will ever change.”

“No, I don’t expect it to. Doesn’t mean I can’t try making you happy.”

Wren smiled at him, and touched noses with the troll. She then sat back and gave a playful smile. “I mean, there _is_ something we could try...in Arcadia...”

“If you’re talking about those human ‘movies,’ _no._ I still refuse to go.”

“But this one is about war and gore, you revel in those sorts of things!” Wren said with a laugh. Draal smirked.

“I only revel in the gore I create myself, you know that.” he half-joked. Before Wren could share in more laughter with her husband, the Amulet -- laying ever faithful on her little side table -- ticked and glowed, as if impatient. She groaned and got to her feet.

“Yeah yeah I’m coming!” Wren grumbled. Soon after, she and Draal left for the Forge. There they were alone, though the Soothscryer waited for them. Wren clenched her hand over Draal’s, and wordlessly he nodded for her to go forward.

Inside, Kanjigar waited.

“I need help.” Wren said, getting to the point.

“As do we.” Kanjigar replied, just as formal and civil. He looked over her carefully. “Though, you are free to share first.”

Wren eyed upwards, noting the floating spirits of other Trollhunters. She wondered if any of them would ever take form the way Kanjigar did; talking to blobs was unsettling.

“I’ve been having a recurrent nightmare. It’s always the same, and I’ve had no other dreams of any kind since they began.” Wren started. Kanjigar nodded for her to continue. “In these nightmares, I’m in the Darklands, and I hear someone...I’m not sure _who_ , exactly, but they are calling to me for mercy. But when I find the source of the voice, it’s Gunmar. He tries to kill me with his sword.”

“The Decimar Blade...a formidable and magical weapon.” one spirit muttered thoughtfully. Kanjigar made a sound of agreement.

“Indeed, though both it _and_ its owner are trapped in the Darklands you seem to be dreaming about.”

“Exactly! It makes no sense to me. I just...I need to know _why_. Is it some kind of vision? Or warning?”

“Trolls do not receive visions -- at least, not living ones.” Kanjigar noted, rubbing his chin. “If these nightmares of yours truly were visions, that would bring up all sorts of questions.”

“And yet I have no answers still.” Wren huffed. “Do you know what to make of this, or not?”

“We...might.” Kanjigar said carefully. “It relates to our own problem, you see.”

“What problem?”

An orb of light floated before Wren, and she jolted back from it.

“The problem of your obsession with bearing a child.” the spirit said, almost hissing. “It clouds your already muddled mind!”

Wren never felt more affronted in her life -- not even when she had her hand in marriage fought over by Draal and Frek. And that in itself almost soured her courtship into nothing -- she felt half-tempted to end the souring meeting now with these dead spirits.

“How dare you! I have every right to fight for a child of my own!”

“And a child you shall have.” Kanjigar spoke out a little louder than before. Wren almost yelled something back before catching herself and coughing a little.

“I’m sorry -- _what?!_ ”

“ _You will have a child._ ” Kanjigar began, slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “We long-dead Trollhunters can receive visions, when and where Merlin sees fit, and we saw you and Draal with a child. _Your_ child.”

Wren could hardly breath, and held up her hands to her chest in shock. All the anger and resentment vanished. All fears and stresses from the past half a year lifted away from her shoulders in a mere second. “My...my own child...”

“And my grandchild.” Kanjigar added softly. Wren regarded him just as gently as he spoke, realizing that he must have been hoping for a future grandchild before he died -- even after trying to push Draal away for all those centuries. Before Wren could say anything in turn, they were interrupted.

“By focusing on the child, your mind will be clouded, too clouded to focus on your new journey.” said one female spirit as she floated around Wren’s head above her. “Merlin sent us this vision to not only give hope to your heavy heart, but to allow you to focus on the trouble you find yourself in now.”

“The nightmares.” Wren said under her breath, before speaking up again. “Yes, I...are they visions, then? But why?”

Kanjigar’s face fell a little. “That is for you to find out, lest we unintentionally change your fate from the knowledge of it: though we know where to direct you first.”

“Where?” Wren almost begged, impatient now.

“Gatto’s Keep.”

\----

“What do you MEAN you don’t know anything about Gatto’s Keep?” Wren groaned, flopping her chest and arms over his desk, face down. She wanted to get things done NOW, and Blinky frowned at her sudden childishness. He snatched the book away from underneath her, forcing the Trollhunter to get back up, rubbing her sore face.

“I _do_ know some things, but not enough to give you thorough details. All I can say is that Gatto is an allusive troll, and few who venture to his domain ever return.”

“That sounds fun.” Jim remarked with a smirk. Nomura watched from where she stood in the corner, fingers playing with a cup of tea in her hand as Wren spoke up again.

“Really? That’s it?”

Blinky cleared his throat. “Well, that, and he is known to hoard all sorts of treasures...”

“Blinky, you’re acting like you don’t want to tell me something.”

“How astute of you.” the historian replied, snapping his book shut now. “I suppose this is a journey that even _I_ don’t wish for you to face. Gatto’s treasures are often dangerous and fell things, things that are perhaps better left guarded by his power and secrecy.”

“You know what’s dangerous and fell? These stupid nightmares that are sending me on this quest anyway. And I say we should prepare for such a quest _now._ ”

Toby brightened up, grabbing both Jim and Eli. Somehow, Claire got roped in as well, caught on by Jim, of course. “Oh my gosh! Is this a quest? A real life quest?!”

“For myself to do with Draal, Blinky, and Nomura. By ourselves.” Wren noted. “Not only do I not trust humans to be safe elsewhere in trolldom, but I still need my human scouts here in Arcadia.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll stay on guard.” Claire said with a smile, Toby mimicking her badly just behind her back. Nomura, however, looked shocked, and set down her tea cup hastily.

“Me? I thought I was stuck here.”

“Do you want to be?” Wren said with a grin. Nomura snorted.

“Maybe you should ask Draal about that one.”

Yet again, Wren had forgotten all about their history together. Her husband looked very uncomfortable with the idea of working with a former lover of his.

“Draal?”

She did not mean to put him on the spot: she truly didn’t. But Wren was anxious to get started, and they only had so little time before the human whelps had to return to their lives. They needed to get a plan down now.

Deya bless him, for at the least, Draal answered with clenched teeth and a hard stare to the floor, “I will go where you ask of me, but not of where the Impure will be.”

Nomura’s jaw clenched, but otherwise made no reaction to his thoughts. Her eyes also narrowed when Wren chuffed at his insult.

“We do not use that word here, not when she is allied with us now.” Wren said firmly. She then turned back to Nomura and Blinky. “Thats settled then. Nomura and Blinky will come with me. Draal, you stay behind with Frek to guide the younglings. Claire is going to need plenty of help with her new training anyway.”

“As you wish it.” Draal responded flatly. Later, when the children returned to the surface world, and Wren was preparing some things at home, he approached her again. This time, he stood by their nesting room archway entrance, straight as an oak and just as broad and stiff. Arms crossed, blue fingers tapped nervously on his golden prosthetic arm.

“I don’t like this.”

“No one likes anything, do they? Papa gave me another earful earlier about this whole thing.” Wren told him without looking up. A few gems she felt she could use for her Amulet were stashed away into the Amulet itself before it was back around her neck.

“You did not even tell me what you saw, in the Void.” Draal confronted her with a growl. “All I know is that you stormed out, gathered everyone, and demanded to know how to get to Gatto’s Keep.”

Wren paused, and looking up from where she sat, faced him. A flush grew on her face. “Oh...I’m sorry. I was just...I got caught up in the work, I guess.”

“Don’t get so caught up that you leave me behind.” Draal said, eyes no longer focusing on his wife. Wren sighed and sat up, throwing on her pack.

“I promise I won’t from now on. But before I go...” Wren started, walking up to him and placing a caring hand on his arm. Draal loosened up a little.

“What is it?”

Wren chuckled a little, unsure of how to say it. “Oh goodness, I mean...it’s so strange, thinking about it. But um...your father, when I was in the Void...”

“My father? What did he say?!” Draal demanded in earnest. Wren held his hand in both of hers.

“He said we’re going to have a child.”

Draal let out a breath-rattling gasp and looked straight at her belly. Wren laughed now.

“No no, not like that! It hasn’t happened yet!” she said, a smile escaping her. On her tippy toes, she stood up more to touch noses with him. “But Kanjigar said it will happen, someday. I just have to stop focusing on it so I can let it happen.”

“That’s...that’s good!” Draal said, laughing now as well and bringing her closer to him. “How does he know?”

“Didn’t say, but I guess that doesn’t matter. All I have to do now is work on this Trollhunting business.”

Draal grunted, now looking grumpy again.

“Hey, I said I’d promise not to leave you out of the loop anymore. Especially if we’re going to have a little bundle to worry about together, one of these days.”

“ _Little?_ I came out of my birth stone large and mighty!” Draal said proudly. They laughed again and walked to the Gyre Station. There, she met with Blinky and Nomura, Frek also there to check in.

“Still mad about Junter?” Wren asked. He shrugged.

“I’ll always be mad about him, and the others. What matters now is that even if he’s annoying me, I can pull my ties with you to cut him down to size.”

Nomura smirked. “You kids and your titles.”

“I agree, such an exhausting topic, but lets go for a ride, shall we?” Blinky said with some excitement. Wren groaned, having never ridden the thing before but knew all too well, from other sources, of Blinky’s particular piloting skills. His very erratic, fast-and-furious skills.

“Wish me luck, my warrior.” Wren said just at the base of the gyre.

“I already have.” Draal said, touching her hand as she walked up to her seat. Soon the trio was off; as the contraption sizzled with electrical magic and zipped his wife away, his smile fell.

“Miss your fair bride already?” Frek said lightly, but without his usual cheekiness.

“Got a bad feeling about this, is all.” he told his friend as they walked away. “I trust Wren to fight well, but I do not trust any threats to fight fair.”

They passed by a few shops as the market grew larger, the further the two warriors walked into it. Draal side eyed a few trinkets.

“You don’t suppose she no longer needs me as a guardian?”

“What? Worry you’ll fall out of favor? You already married her; it’s not like Wren hates you.”

“I’m not worried.” Draal grumped, glaring at Frek. He was laughed off.

“Sure, of course not. But guardian or no, Wren will always want you around.”

Draal wondered if he would only be wanted around as a father figure and nothing more, only to have his thoughts interrupted by a frantic Junter.

“What do you want now?” Frek demanded with a growl. Junter, for once, did not smirk or laugh off his brother’s bite.

“It’s those kids you’re with -- one of them fought off Angor Rot!”


	6. Beware the Maw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wren faces Gatto, and falls for one of his clever traps; the children face danger, more than they have before, leaving Draal feeling blindsided without Wren's guidance, and Walt tries to move forward with dating Barbara, unaware of how deep Otto Scaarbach influence goes in Arcadia.

“These things are still legal?” Nomura hissed as she rubbed her back. Wren shook her head too; how Blinky managed to find the gyre in any way ‘fun’ was beyond her. Blinky himself hmphed proudly.

“I would think you favoring of gyres, considering they are

“I suppose hitting Argentina in under 30 seconds is admirable.” Nomura admitted. She looked around now, careful to hide her five-fingered, Changeling hands within a poncho they bought from a gyre station vendor. “What are you expecting from Gatto then? A warm welcome? Politics?”

“As always, I suggest standing guard for potential dangers. Little is known, save that he collects powerful things and never lets them go.” Blinky explained. He shuffled Nomur behind him, almost protectively, as they made their way through the little village of working class huts. She snorted in amusement and sped up to walk alongside him.

“I’ve met worse, trust me.”

Wren nodded. “Let’s just hope he’s not worse than Bular.”

Nomura looked around, noticing some villagers looking at Wren curiously; not unusual at first, thinking that they noticed the Amulet worn around her neck. But as she deftly glanced around and took in more of her surroundings, Nomura noticed that they, for all intents and purposes, were actually looking at Wren herself. They muttered in their local dialect, to themselves, before taking notice of Nomura’s hard stares and hurried away.

Blinky noticed too, sharing a look with Nomura. This was going to be more interesting than they had anticipated. Just as they returned their attention to walking, Wren stopped them before a set of guards.

They both stood in front of the sole opening -- an open archway -- leading to the inside of a vast cavern. Both of them were like the locals they had just seen: various shades of orange, yellow, and red, with marking showing the iridescent colors just beneath their stone skin. Their faces, however, were covered by thick metal masks, goggles covering their eyes.

“[Who dares enter the abode of Gatto our King?]” one demanded.

Wren straightened up, and answered in perfect High Trollish, “[Wren, daughter of Vendel, son of Rundle, and chosen champion of Merlin’s Amulet.]”

“Nice puff up.” Nomura said with a smirk. Blinky gave her a look and she only snickered. He gave an even harsher look to Wren as she giggled too.

However, the answer was apparently good enough for a guards, as they let them through and had another troll walk them inside.

Wren brought her head upwards, and gasped.

“Blinky, this is a _volcano!_ ”

“My goodness...I knew his terrain was moutainous, but nothing like this!” Blnky said in astonishment. “It’s incredible! And also...oh yes, quite hot.”

“I’m starting to regret this.” Nomura sighed, flapping her poncho in front to let the moving air cool her down. Wren, however, felt her body hum in energy as she walked close to the lava. It reminded her of their own Heartstone in Arcadia.

“This isn’t normal lava, is it?” Wren said, some of her training as a gem cleaver returning to her. “I remember reading about Molten Heartstones, but i thought they were just myths...Do you think they would let me bring some home?”

“Focus, Master Wren, we are here for other purposes.” Blinky said, guiding her back to their path. The guard lead them up a crude but sturdy ramp, where some workers were adding more nails here and there.

By the time they reached the top, Gatto was no where to be seen.

“What? Did we miss him?” Wren said, turning to face towards the vast cavern from where they all stood. “How long will we have to wait?”

“Not long, Wren the Cleaver!”

The voice was deep and booming, loud enough to reverberate off the stone walls. Wren made a rather funny noise from shock, whipping around to face the source of the voice with Nomura and Blinky. Before them was what she had thought was just a part of the cavern wall, only now it revealed itself to be the large, mountainous face of Gatto himself.

Gatto wasn’t just the king of this volcano land -- he _was_ the volcano.

“...Oh.” was all Wren managed to get out. Blinky huddled to her side, just behind her, as Nomura stood defensively to his opposite.

“I’m starting to know why Gatto tends to keep to himself...” Blinky muttered, his eyes not leaving the monstrous face. Wren cleared her throat and straightened her back to address the king.

“Greetings, Gatto. Thank you for making an audience with my friends and I.”

Gatto hummed in in amusement, ashy smoke billowing from his nostrils and mouth. “Thank you, Cleaver, for gracing me with your presence...now, what brings you here, to me, to the realm of Gatto?”

“I was told of your knowledge and collection of things no one else posseses.” Wren began, which earned her a smug grin from the king. “I have been...having trouble, you see, decipharing a dr--”

“Ahem, she is unsure as to how to find a way to find what she needs, to make the next step in her journey. She was given signs but needs help interpreting them.” Blinky interrupted. Nomura motioned for Wren to play along. Now that the little warrior thought about it, she realized that she almost admitted to having visions -- something no troll could have. For once, Wren felt discomfort at the troubling implications of such a thing; Gatto did not seem to notice her change in demeanor, however, and grew a thinking look on his face.

“Discerning your fate, I see, yes...this _is_ most unusual...most unique...I admit, I thought you would come here for... _another_ unique reason.”

Wren frowned a little. “What do you mean?”

“Your stone flesh, it is not like anything I have ever seen.”

“It sure is pink...I suppose.” Wren admitted. “But my king, I am not here for my skin. Do you have anything that may help me with my problem?”

“Only if you help me with mine, little Trollhunter!”

“He’s _bargaining,_ Master Wren.” Blinky warned before she could answer.

“So watch what you say.” Nomura said without taking her green eyes off of the guards around them now. Wren swallowed and straighted up to look like a proper troll matron.

“I can help you however I am willing.” Wren shared, choosing her words delicately. “You mentioned that my stone skin intrigues you. May I ask why?”

“Only if you answer a question of my own!” Gatto said with a laugh. “How many living stones do you posses?”

That was a personal question akin to asking a human woman her breast size. It was no wonder, then, that Blinky would sputter in shock at his bold demand, and marched right up to the mountain’s face with a raised fist. The guards did not make a move, which Nomura found unsettling.

“Now you see here, _King_ Gatto! You are speaking to Wren, daughter of Trollmarket’s Elder and a Champion of Merlin! You shall regard her with the upmost respect!”

“I can defend myself, Blinkous.” Wren asserted with a flushed face. Her trainer frowned but stepped back to Nomura once again. She faced Gatto again. “He asked a question for a question, and a helpful hand for a helpful hand. I will not deny him this bargain.”

Wren took a deep breath and composed herself, trying to look nothing less than dignified.

“If you must know, my king, I have only the one living stone. Nothing more.” Wren answered, holding a small pink hand up to her chest. Gatto hummed thoughtfully.

“Very well. And for your question, my matron?”

“What do I need to do, to interpret the signs given to me to further my journey?”

Gatto smiled this time. Nomura shared a look with Blinky, and he could only lay a hand on her arm in mutual agreement that things were headed in an unsafe direction.

“You have heard of my Keep, of course, a collection of precious treasures and powers beyond imagination.”

“Yes...I have. What of it?” Wren prodded.

“I am...rather _fond,_ of adding to that collection. Passing up an opportunity to add to my treasure hold would be painful. And of course, I would be loathe to deny you your need for my help.”

A funny feeling filled Wren’s belly; Gatto did not stop.

“And my dear Cleaver...”

Wren had not noticed, but Nomura and Blinky did -- guards began to surround them, weapons drawn and pointed at the trio. Nomura’s growl was the only thing that alerted the Trollhunter to the impending danger.

“...You would be the _perfect addition._ ”

“It’s a trap!” Blinky shouted as a type of distraction to startle the guards. Nomura yelled out and grabbed one of the spears, pulling it forward so she could bring the troll in close and kick him in the gronk-nuks with her knee. Wren donned her armor just as Nomura threw the troll over the edge and began to fight another.

“This would be easier if _someone_ didn’t take away my weapons!”

Wren grunted as she sliced at an oncoming troll. “Rules are rules! No weapons until we can trust you!”

There was an undignified yelp from Blinky as he ducked from an attempted assault from yet another volcano troll; Nomura grabbed one she had been sparring by the horns, and flung him into the one entrapping the historian. She then grabbed him by the straps of his trousers to put him on his feet.

“If you want to trust me, then I say we get out of here. Now!”

“I’ll start the gyre!” Blinky said as jumped through another guard with a half-scared, half-menacing shout. He then began barrelling down the ramps towards the outer village and gyre station.

“Make a diversion already and _get us out of here!_ ” Nomura hissed. She took a jab at her shoulder, which began to bleed more now. Adrenaline blocked most of the pain for now, but without anything to defend herself with, Nomura knew it would not be long before she would be useless.

An ex-Changeling dying in defense of her once sworn enemy, how drole.

But Wren had no time to think of any sort of irony going on -- the mass of guards became overwhelming, and regretted not taking more warriors with her. She suddenly understood why so few left this domicile.

After a close call with a spear, she growled, and focused on the stones within her Amulet. The gem cleaver inside of her, and even a primal part of her pounding through her flesh, called out to a particular gem, a blood red ruby, cut to give one added strength -- the Fortis Stone. It whirred to life in response to its Master and immediately the shorter troll and her armor glowed brighter with power.

Gatto could only cackle at the show in front of him, as the Trollhunter focused only on her surrounding enemies, and cut them down with one swipe after another. Wren flipped over two that charged towards her, and with a twist sliced them both in half. With a snarl she landed, and snapped her attention back to Gatto.

“Enough of these games! You are a liar and a cheat, release us at once!”

“I am the Deal-Maker in these parts, little runt!” Gatto sneered. Wren heard a strangled noise behind her, and spun around to see Nomura held in a lock, a lava troll’s brawny arm choking her. Two other guards, injured but still up, pricking the edge of their spear’s blades into her stone flesh, at her chest.

“Don’t fall for his tricks, Hunter.” Nomura strangled out, trying to hiss and flash her teeth at those around them. The Fortis Stone, losing it’s charge, wound down and Wren felt that power leave her almost immediately.

“Join my collection, Cleaver, and you shall have your answer, and your little pet’s life.”

“You would kidnap the daughter of an Elder?” Wren said in a last moment of defiance. Nomura gurgled out a pained cry as a spear carefully pierced at her left side. Wren gasped.

“Stop! I agree! I’ll do it! Just don’t hurt her!”

Nomura looked shocked, staring into Wren’s golden eyes. They flashed with an emotion that fled too quickly for the Trollhunter to decipher. Wren casted her eyes downward as she took off her armor and Amulet.

“I’ll do it. Now do _your_ end of the deal.”

“Of course, Cleaver, of course...realease the Impure.”

Nomura was dropped, and she half-collapsed onto the ground, she shared one last look with Wren before rushing off. If word got out about a Changeling in their midst, Nomura would not have long to be alone and also safe. How Gatto knew of her kind, Wren did not have time to dwell on, for her Amulet was snatched away, and was pushed and prodded towards Gatto’s mouth.

His very open mouth, which widened with every step closer Wren got, until she fell in with a scream and tumbled downwards into darkness.

\----

_“Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!”_

_“Duck, Toby!” Claire shouted, and he did so. He missed a kick from Angor Rot, though he tumbled over the edge of the school roof. Jim screeched out his friend’s name, trying to rush in to catch him in vain, only for Angor Rot to grab him by his collar and toss him away to the side. He too fell over but managed to dangle from the side, still screaming for Toby._

_Just before the boy hit the ground, Junter rushed to the scene, catching him in a roll. Toby scrambled to his feet and watched as the two trolls began to duel furiously. Eli, his ankle swollen, hopped over to him and pointed to Jim and Claire, both of them trying to climb down safely from the school roof without getting in the way of the assassin._

“...And then Angor Rot punched Junter in the face and ran off!” Eli said excitably. Frek pushed him down onto his rear end again to tend to the bruised ankle. His eyes purposefully avoided looking at his brother’s face.

Draal, however, was more direct. “He attacked at the school? But why, and by who?”

“I can only guess.” Junter told them. “And even then, you may know more than I.”

“Maybe he knows we work with the Trollhunter.” Claire put in carefully. Jim widened his eyes in shock.

“But how?! We use code, we take secret ways to Trollmarket...”

Toby looked unsure and sheepish now. “But I mean, he’s this super dope assassin, right? Maybe we didn’t do good enough.”

Draal breathed in and out carefully. It was new, reigning in his anger and temper, but he knew Wren would hate to hear that he treated the fleshwhelps too harshly. His wife was firm with their training and expectations, but she never even raised her voice at them. And knowing how delicate this matter was, Draal had to tread carefully anyway.

“Perhaps, but that matters little now.” Draal eventually said, looking over to Frek. “Until Wren returns and says otherwise, we can no longer let them out of our sight. We can not assume human settlements are safe.”

“But we need to find Angor Rot!” Eli said, standing up on his wobbly leg. Frek snorted out of his nose. “I mean it, Frek! You said he has his soul in a ring or something, right? And none of us saw him with it. It must mean that someone else is controlling him.”

Junter stiffened, and added, “Someone who may already know about the children working with Wren.”

No one liked that answer and the implications thereof. After sending word to Vendel of the incident, Draal could not think of anything better to do than to send the children home with respective guards, and found himself in Jim’s basement that night. Junter was hastily assigned to Claire’s home, and so he was left to be relatively alone after just a short while.

Quickly he fumbled around his pack, and found the bizarre metal rectangle Strickler called a “phone”, and pressed the image bearing the human’s visage. Immediately Strickler answered the other end of the line.

“Angor attacked the fleshwhelps.” Junter said without any greeting. “Are you sure about this? You never told me that innocents were going to be in the way.”

“I never said that they wouldn’t be.” Strickler said, though not without some regret on his part. “But no matter. Did you see anyone who could be in control of Angor?”

Junter grunted, taking a seat on the cold floor in the basement. “I saw some suspicious activity from one of the human elders. He had reddish hair, a funny accent. I couldn’t get much closer without the children spotting me.”

“....That’s all I need to know.” Strickler answered. “Continue to keep the others in your favor; report to me when the Trollhunter returns.”

And that was that. Strickler put his phone away, straightened his jacket, and returned to the little picnic spot where he and Barbara were having a romantic, starry night out.

“So, where were we?” he said gently. Barbara smiled.

“Jim, as always. I know I bring him up so much, especially for a first date...”

“Not at all, Barbara, he’s a wonderful young man.” Walt assured, pouring himself some more wine. He looked up again, and caught her eyes. She looked away bashfully.

“A man...goodness that is so close.” she chuckled sadly. “He’s still just a boy to me.”

“I think in a way, he always will be. But you are a mother, my dear, and that is not something you should let go, not ever.”

Barbara looked over at him again, her face soft and gentle with understanding. “You talk as if you have children of your own.”

A pang of guilt filled Walt’s gut. He coughed a little. “Ah, no, though I understand how important family is. How wonderful it can be.”

The two fell into a silence, though not an uncomfortable one. Barbara leaned into him and sighed.

“Thank you, for this I mean. Coming out here with me. Most guys think a picnic under the stars is corny or something.”

“What a stroke of luck then! I rather like corn.” Walt said with a smirk. That earned him a laugh, and he enjoyed her laughter, if just to try and ignore the impending sense of doom that lingered over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action! yay! Hold out for the next chapter, where Wren begins to put the pieces together...


	7. Twice A Bride, Thrice the Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gatto's capture of Wren throws everyone's plans into disarray; Wren herself not only makes a new friend, but discovers unbelievable clues towards her destiny.

There were many healers in Trollmarket, but only one who would be willing enough to lay hands on a Changeling – and Blinky was not yet ready to tell Vendel that his daughter was taken into Gatto’s Keep. No, the evidence of Wren’s capture had to be hidden away, and taken care of himself.

Nomura was laid upon a desk after Frek swept everything off of it. The scrolls and tomes could be picked up later. A travel pack of healing magics and supplies were handed to Blinky, who dumped it all next to his charge. She groaned.

“Easy, the noise is gonna give me a headache.”

“Hush now, my dear.” Blinky said hurriedly. As Frek unraveled some bandages, the historian popped open a potion; Draal rushed in with children haggling behind him.

Blinky did not take his eyes and hands away from the task at hand, but that did not stop his patience from growing short. “Away with you all! I’m busy!”

“Where is Wren?! She was not with you!” Draal demanded with a growl of his own. Frek held up a hand.

“Easy, my friend! We can talk when–”

“ _Where is my wife?!_ ”

The bellow was enough to make Nomura make another pained noise. Draal’s murderous eyes glared over to the woman and the children stepped between them before something could happen.

“Only Nomura can tell us the details, but she is hardly in any condition to speak just yet.” Blinky snapped. The wound had since been pressed and covered in the ointment potion. Purplish blood covered his top hands and his lower set were busy with heating a poker. “So I ask you to wait until both of us are ready to speak, or I _will_ kick you out myself!”

Draal looked over the children again. All of them shook a little, but also seemed determined to prevent a fight from breaking out. Even Frek eyed him down. He breathed in and stepped back. Foolishness pricked a bit in his chest.

“Hurry up then.”

Nomura’s eyes fluttered open and closed, her breathing haggard. Her usual deep magenta faded a little with her dimming eyes. Frek returned to her side to hold down her arms.

‘Er, sorry about this…”

Before Nomura could ask why, she felt a searing burn at her open wound. She screeched out a roar she never knew she had, weakly fighting against Frek’s hold on her. Blinky pulled away the hot poker as fast as he could and slapped more of the potion on her before wrapping with all four of his hands. His face had been almost vacant, his large mouth set firmly, and only his eyes hinting at any fear within him.

“That’s it, Nomura, there.” he sighed, finally relieved. Frek sagged his shoulders and offered his cloak as a prop for her head.

Draal had been subconciously sheparding the human kids behind him; he snapped back to reality, as if he had been watching in a dream. Glancing down, he saw all of them look up at him with genuine concern.

“She…she’ll be fine.” Draal forced out. “I need you stay back.”

Blinky snapped his attention to the approaching warrior, quickly walking to stand before him, out of Nomura’s sight.

“If you so much as lay a _single_ hand on her–!”

“I won’t. But make it quick – where. Is. My. Wife?”

Nomura turned her head to look at them both, eyes half open. “Gatto has her.”

“What?!”

“In his Keep. It’s…it’s his belly.” she strained out. She gasped at a sudden sting of pain. 

“So you left her to die!”

“She tried to defend me.” Nomura spat back, failing to hide a grimace. “She…she gave herself up to Gatto so I would not be killed.”

Even Blinky was shocked. “Truly? She just…turned herself in?”

“We need to get her back.” Draal said. His fear for Wren overshadowed whatever malice he felt towards the Changeling, and whatever thoughts he held concerning Nomura’s worthiness of such sacrifice.

Frek snorted. “Now? Without a Trollhunter nor a plan?”

“We’ll make one now!” Eli piped. “We’re trollhunters too, you know.”

“And since Nomura and Blinky already know the layout, we have intel for a better attack.” Jim put in, looking thoughtful. “What can we do that won’t have us captured too?”

Draal gave the boy a look of utter disapproval. “Gatto and his ilk are one of the few troll tribes left who do not abide by the Treaty of Killahead.”

Claire blinked. “What does that have to do with us?”

“It means that they still eat humans, if they can snag one without getting caught that is.” Blinky said with a sour expression. “No no, it would not do, to have humans go in like this.”

“So, what? It’ll just be Draal and Frek?” Toby argued. “You’ll be outnumbered like with Nomura! We weren’t trained for nothing!”

“Please…I can’t…” Nomura panted, her eyes closing again as her head lolled back down. Blinky huffed out his nose and shooed them all away.

“Enough of these squabbles. If you are going to make a plan, then do it now, away from here.” he said, pushing both warriors and the humans out of his library. “And not a word of this to Vendel. Not yet. We needn’t start a war if we can’t help it.”

Draal shook with anger at that remark; his wife was worth a hundred battles and then some, according to his aching heart, but Blinky had already rushed back into his abode to continue working on Nomura. He sighed and turned to the kids. Frek looked uncertain.

“Fine, I can do things on my own. I’d rather do it my way anyway.” Draal put in. He eyed the humans carefully. “Are you sure you are willing to help?”

They all gave a loud “Yes!”

Frek laughed with that wry grin of his. “What an army, my friend! What do we do now?”

“Hm…where’s Argh?”

“At my place, though I think he’s making rounds in Arcadia.” Toby said. “Why?”

“Because he’s the only one with sense aside from Blinky, and I don’t want him stopping us.” Draal then bent down to gather them around his front, making sure there wasn’t anyone listening in the quiet street. “So, how good are you fleshbags at sneaking in and out?”

—-

Wren recalled, in her little human book of fairy tales back home, of one particular story about a young girl named Alice. She had chased a white rabbit down a dark hole in the ground, and found herself in a new and bizarre world. Upon first reading such a story, Wren was amused at how foolish the child was, to chase after and risk so much for a harmless little rabbit.

Well, now she had her own foot in her mouth.

After a moment of tumbling and screeching, Wren grunted and hit a steady floor, groggily sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Just a foot in front of her was searing hot lava. She yelped and jumped back, still on the floor, and with shaky breath looked around.

It was, essentially, a cave, but a cave within Gatto himself. And in it were mounds of gold, precious gems and other jewels, as well as peculiar objects. There was even a human car in there; Wren laughed under her breath, a little manically, at the ridiculousness of it all.

But…was this not part of the deal? Of her destiny even? After all, Gatto said he could help her, and Kanjigar himself said her answers lied with Gatto’s Keep. Perhaps her answer lie within the mounds of treasure.

Or Gatto was just a liar, plain and simple. Who knew. Wren figured it was best to explore her current environment regardless and see if there was anything useful. With her Amulet stolen, she would need to find something or other that was almost as powerful. Wren got up, dusted off her leather skirt, and got on with it.

First thing she did was pocket a bunch of gold coins. Goodness, her younger self would have drooled over them all – what she could have done with that during her orphan years!

Once her inner child was quelled, Wren snooped around at the random objects littered with the gems and gold – one was even a kairosect, a magical artifact that could stop time. That particular one was placed in a spot on the floor, where other useful things would be put as time went on. A few rare gems, ripe for cleaving, were placed within a leather bag she found filled with a jounral of incantations.

Finally, she dug through the chests – only to find more gold and gems. Though, one chest also contained a showy concubine’s dress. Not helpful in the slightest but still amusing. Wren put it back in the chest and slammed it shut. She sunk back onto the floor, leaning against it, and absentmindedly rubbed where her living stone hid away beneath her flesh.

It was…bigger now. A little wider, and easier to feel underneath her collarbone. Pulses from the living lava before her made the stone more apparent and even somewhat bothersome. Wren hummed a little and felt around it some more – perhaps it was growing stronger from exposure to Gatto’s Heartstone? It would make sense, stones of flesh reacted differently to different Heartstones; perhaps her stay her would also indirectly aid her quest for a child.

A trip back to Trollmarket was needed first, though. Wren then looked over at a few shelves just across the floor from her to distract her frazzled thoughts.

It was filled with potions. Their arrangement reminded Wren of Vendel’s private alchemy lab, where everything was maintained in pristine order. Rika too had her own little kitchen where she made healing potions and salves for the mothers she attended to. The fact that the shelf, as properly cleaned as any other proper lab despite located within Gatto’s belly, made Wren feel more on edge.

“Hello! My geetings!

May we have this meeting?”

Wren shrieked and shot up, fists out ready for a fight.

“I’m well trained and feared! Don’t push it!” Wren yelled out, whipping her head back and forth to find the source of the voice. Yet no one was there. The voice, high pitched and chipper, spoke up again.

“Please do not fear,

My good warrior fair

I am just a fairy here

Trapped in Gatto’s lair!”

A shake of her head, and Wren only just then realized that the voice was rhyming.

Only one creature she knew could speak solely in rhyme.

“A f…a _fairy._ ” Wren said, only lowering her fists a little. “If you’re a fairy, then where are you? The fae aren’t invisible!”

“Check behind you, silly troll!

Turn around, and see the Old!”

Wren did so, carefully, and, indeed, found a little fairy just a few feet from her. Like the fairies she had seen as a child, she was a pastel-colored, soft light, somehow gleaming against the harsh reds and dankness of the lava pool just behind them.

It was such a confusing situation. Here Wren was, decades after being told that fairies were extinct despite seeing them as a whelp, and yet…she found herself doubting it all now.

A fairy. A real fairy!

“I…wow. Okay.” Wren said breathlessly. “You…in here…”

The fairy sighed, her golden-sheen flickering.

“Gatto saw my desperation

He promised me true liberation

My people they did die…

So took me in, with his lies…”

“No kidding.” Wren said with a dry chuckle, looking around. “I think that wretched troll tricked me too.”

The fairy flickered again, as if to nod, yet was still sad. Wren shared a grin, and walked forward to let the light rest on her forefinger.

“If it’s any consolation…I did see other fairies before, near Trollmarket.”

The fairy squeaked and jumped up and down on her pink finger.

“You say so truly, maiden dear?

There are more fairies near?!”

“Not near here, perhaps, but back home, yes. I saw them on a full moon, singing at a magical and sacred place. It was long ago but I am certain they are still there. They granted wishes of mine, you know.” Wren said. She found it hard to not feel joy with the fairy who now danced on her outstretched arm in celebration.

“Take me there, maiden fair!”

Wren giggled. “Firstly, I am no maiden. I am wife to Draal the Deadly. And second…I have no idea how to get out of here. I’m guessing you don’t either…”

“No…”

The fairy did not continue one with a rhyme. She sighed in a dreary way, the light dimming. Wren stretched out to her again and placed her in her cupped hands to rest.

“You know, I never got your name. What did your friends call you?”

“…His-Little-Star, I was called:

For Merlin’s sake, in Camelot.”

Wren’s eyes widened as she crouched down and brought her closer to her face. “Wait, THE Merlin? As in, the wizard who made the Amulet of Daylight?!”

“The one and only, good friend!

I was with him ‘til the end.

Inspiration I would give

To the wizard while he lived.”

“I don’t know him, but I am his Champion. Wren the Hunter they call me now, if not the Cleaver.” She explained. His-Little-Star floated up carefully. Her pastel and gold shimmer slowly came back.

“One a warrior, and the other fae

Both make chance to meet this day —

Perhaps good Merlin saw this then

To set us free once again?”

The two of them smiled in their own way. Hope filled them both.

“Tell me everything you know, and I’ll see what I can do.” Wren declared. His-Little-Star sparkled again and immediately began a song detailing all she learned within Gatto’s Keep since her capture.

 

“Big Bad Gatto with his greed

gave me his solemn vow–

‘To punish the pixies and their greed,

I’ll have to show you how!’

 

Deep into his belly harsh

where lava spills and pools

twas there I learned of this marsh

A marsh of fire so cruel.

 

For this lava is alive

more alive than you would think–

into it much power dives

into this infernal sink.

 

Secrets and potions and treasures, yes

this big bad King has now posses–

But Stone for Stone, Hearts do match

The Bane of Black, you shall catch.

 

You know him from tales old

from your youth when you were bold

Now bold again you must be

to fulfill your prophecy!”

 

Wren paled a little in shock at how deep this was getting. Prophecy? Bane of Black? Was that Gunmar, like in her dreams? She listened more as His-Little-Star finished up.

 

“Seek it now and seek it proud

before the King comes by

to force your hand and your stone

to become his new bride!”

 

That last part only made Wren snort. Whatever it was about her living stone that Gatto wanted was laughable at best; it was a very weak and solitary living stone. “Okay, sure. We’ll see how Draal takes that.”

“I only say what I see – it’s all within your prophecy.” His-Little-Star said, as if she were shrugging. “The fae see time in ways you don’t, it’s best to listen, not croak.”

“But you keep saying prophecy! What prophecy? With Gunmar you mean? Is that the Black?”

“Yes yes, most impressed!”

Wren wondered over to the pile she made, grabbing the bag of gems and spells to tie onto her belt. She then lead His-Little-Star towards the case of potions to see what was there.

“So my dreams really did mean something!” Wren said with a breathless laugh. “Okay okay, something something Stone for Stone…hearts do match…what does _that_ mean?”

His-Little-Star hummed. “Many stones there have been, here and there and back again. Perhaps a stone from the Black to help you get back on track?”

“A stone, a stone…” Wren mused under her breath. A fire potion was taken down before she decided against it for a snow-themed one. “So like…his living stone maybe?”

The fairy only buzzed with a ‘I dunno’ sound. Wren sighed and tapped her chin.

Blinky would have a riot over Wren getting fuzzy on her history – of course Wren the Runt, with her hatred of reading, would forget lessons on trollkind’s worst enemy. But still, she had to try; if His-Little-Star was correct, then she would have an illegitimate wedding to fret over.

“So Gunmar, he um…I _think_ I remember stones being connected somehow, I’m not sure…something about them being tied to his life, like..like a…”

As if bored and tired from a long day of making a new friend, His-Little-Star yawned dramatically and floated downwards, like a feather, onto a makeshift bed by the shelving. It’s ‘mattress’ was a glowing, purple stone, her blanket a torn piece from the concubine outfit Wren had found earlier. She paid no mind to her sleepy companion, not until she bumped her foot into it by accident.

“Ow! Oh, I’m so sorry!” Wren said as she bent down quickly to help. Through the irritated buzzing, however, the Trollhunter saw the ‘mattress’, and quickly snatched the little blanket off of it. Her golden eyes flickered in its light, and for a moment, she felt her heart beat in time with it’s dim, but firm, energy. Despite never having seen this thing before, it felt oddly familiar, as if she were meeting an old family member or friend.

The stone was pure life-force, just like the living heartstone that formed the volcano’s lava, like the heartstone back in Trollmarket. It also reminded Wren of the time Rika took her through the Heartstone nursery, where unhatched whelps created from living stones from their parents were incubating in their own little birth stones. Even His-Little-Star stopped her upset rambling when she saw Wren stare, transfixed, 

“Star…do you know what this is?” Wren eventually got out, her breathing shallow with excitement. She held up the stone to show it to His-Little-Star, who floated closer to it.

“Is it not a bed,

for my dreary little head?”

“No, not at all!” Wren laughed out. “This…this is Gunmar’s Birth Stone!”

His-Little-Star paused, and said in a tone of awe, “The Triumbric Stones of old, just as Bodus fortold.”

“Dishonorable Bodus…yes, I know of him! Blinky used to make me memorize his nonsensical eddas all the time!” Wren said with crazy smile. “Ha! That sleaze of a king was telling the truth – he really could help me!”

Thoughts of the concubine’s dress came to mind, and Wren snapped her attention back to His-Little-Star. The torn piece she used as a blanket was snatched up and held out to emphasize her point.

“I have an idea to get us out of here, thanks to your song. And I know _exactly_ what we’re gonna do.”

—-

“They likely saw you, you know.”

Otto scoffed with a roll of his eyes, going through his schedule book flippantly. “Yes yes, that’s fine. The more they think my _disguise_ is the perpetrator, the less likely they are to look for the real me.”

Angor Rot, making more golem heart totems for an unforseen batte, flicked his yellow eyes upwards from where he stood. They were neutral, hard to read, not that Otto cared to look.

“I often wonder, who the real you is.”

“Keep wondering, mein freund.” Otto sighed, done for the day. “Well, that is that. And just in time for our new assignment – the Trollhunter will likely be drawn out to face this disguise of mine, and as such –”

“The Trollhunter left for Gatto’s Keep.”

Otto froze, part way in the process of getting his tweed jacket on; part of face lost their freckles in a second of shock. “What?”

“I saw no sign of her either during my rounds, and all the trolls are guarding the human children. It’s likely she was taken in as prisoner by him.”

“And you’re only telling me this _now?!_ ”

“No one escapes Gatto’s Keep.” Angor continued without sounded bothered in the slightest. He blew some dust away from his totem. “We will have to travel there ourselves, have him make a deal with the Janus Order in exchange for the Trollhunter.”

“You will travel there.” Otto snapped, still impatient but mind working through a plan. “Make an exchange with Gatto, yes…yes, that could work.”

He went back to his desk, taking out a fountain pen, and pulling it apart to reveal a hidden key. It unlocked another hidden secret – a lock, and opened up a hidden room behind the bookcase as it slid out of view. Angor blew air out of his nose, surprised that he was not shown this before, but focused on his task nonetheless.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t look, though.

There were shelves of various artifacts and tools, but the wall furthest from the entrance held something more revealing. A map of the surface world hung above a desk, marked with red circles and some writing in various places. Angor could hardly make out the human language. He began to recognize letters and symbols from his time spying on the humans, but Otto Scaarbach wisely withheld any lessons on how to actually interpret them.

“Take this.” Otto eventually said, holding out an Anstromonstrum. He did so with a look of disgust. “I hate these things, never understood why Strickler was fond of it.”

Angor held it with unease but hid it well enough. “Is this worth the Trollhunter to Gatto?”

“If it isn’t, then it will make for a handy escape plan.” Otto explained. His shoulders looked less tense now, sure of his idea working for him. “It’s not like that fat face can run away from it.”

“How… _destructive_ of you.” Angor drawled with genuine amusement. The large purple crystal – which housed the monstrous Antromonstrum – was tucked onto his back with some straps.

“Just bring back the girl and I don’t care who you kill along the way.”

“Of course.”

With that, they both made their leave, the sun setting. Angor smirked, an idea of his own forming in his head, and and took out his hated Shadow Staff to make a portal towards Gatto’s Lair. He fell to his possible freedom.

—-

The official scroll, sealed with the crest of Kruberian royalty, lay out on the sitting table. Rika had read it after Vendel had, and the two now sat down to share a cup of tea over it.

“I thought you hated Usurna.” she mentioned. Vendel snorted.

“In a…professional way. She and I have drastically different ways of approaching our roles as leaders.”

Rika chuckled and took another sip, before replying, “It helps that she is a queen. I don’t imagine that the role of a queen is vastly different.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Vendel grumbled, still fiddling with his tea. He paused, then added some glug to it. “That woman is _impossible._ ”

“And I’m, what? Easy like Sunday morning?” Rika said with a smile. Vendel looked confused and she sighed.

“Sorry, it’s a human phrase. Wren taught me.”

“Where is that impossible daughter of mine anyway? Nothing but impossible women around here…”

Rika began her playful retort, wondering where her foster daughter ran off to as well. While tossing around ideas, her eye caught sight of Draal carefully walking in. He paused sheepishly when he noticed her.

“Ah, Draal! It’s good you’re here.” Rika called out to him. “Have you seen your wife anywhere? Is she back from Gatto’s yet?”

“‘Back from Gatto’s’ she says. You say that as if it were a pleasant visit.” Vendel huffed. Draal coughed a little.

“She uh, yes, it was pleasant, just uh…one question, if you don’t mind?”

Rika and Vendel shared a look. Proud and mighty Draal only ever faltered over his words when something was up. “Go on then.”

Just behind the old couple, Jim rolled from the kitchen and into a spare room, barely catching notice of the others. Draal could have beamed at him with pride.

“It’s just…well, Wren told me of her future, after a visit with my father, in the Void.”

Vendel perked. “Of what? She did no tell me anything other than running off to Gatto’s Keep.”

Draal inhaled sharply as Eli and Claire tried to sneak by and bumped into a stool; there was a light scuffing noise, but nothing that he couldn’t hide by hitting his hand onto the sitting table. The kettle jangled and Rika gasped in surprise.

“Wren will surely be with child sooner than we think!” Draal announced in awkward formality. Eli gave a thumbs up before being dragged by the collar and into the room. At the least, Vendel smiled at that news.

“The Void told her this? This is wonderful news!” Vendel said with rare laughter. He stood up and grasped his shoulders. “Tell me everything! Do you know what the child will be like? Any names yet?”

“Easy my old goat!” Rika said with a grin, still sitting. As she wiped up some spilled tea, Jim rolled from the spare room and into the kitchen, to climb out of the window there. As Draal continued to engage in conversation over their surprise, Claire and Eli, too, made it out without notice.

Outside on the street, the three met up with Toby, who kept wach with Chompsky.

“You got it all?” Toby asked, looking at their spoils. They were weapons, enchanted by Wren herself, when she had still lived with her Papa and apprenticed under him. Though they were the makings of a student, they were still better than what was left in the Forge.

One was a pare of knaves similar to the ones that Jim used at the Second Battle of Killahead, but they glowed a misty blue when handled. Toby grabbed for what looked like a miniature hammer, only for it to grow in size and hit the ground with a loud THUNK. Chompsky shouted out and jumped into his hair to hide.

“Oof! How am I supposed to carry this?” Toby complained. Claire, who held onto a retractable staff, smiled.

“Oh, you’re gonna love that one. It can _float_ ”

Just like that, the flaming orange warhammer dipped upwards, and Toby held onto the handle as his feet began to dangle.

“Are you kidding me?! This is freaking cool!” he shouted out. The kids stopped laughing once Draal appeared, roughly pulling the boy down and back onto the ground.

“These are not toys to play with.” he growled, losing his patience. “They are weapons, more deadly than you could imagine. I only allowed you all to use them because we are outnumbered otherwise.”

“Do you think Gatto expects someone to come after Wren?” Eli asked. He held a lightweight crossbow. Draal sighed.

“I’m not sure…I don’t know what to expect at all…Wren or Blinky are always the one to come up with a plan…”

Claire straightened up, staff at hand, and said with clear assurance, “Well, I bet he isn’t expecting humans, at the least. And he doesn’t have to know that we’re packing heat.”

“If I use you as bait, Wren will kill me.” Draal replied flatly. Jim shook his head.

“No, this is our choice. We want to help Wren, that’s why she made us Trollhunters, remember? She saved our lives, and now we’re gonna save hers.”

By now, Chompsky had scurried out of Toby’s hair, and onto Eli’s head instead. He gave a warrior’s whoop with fists up in the air. Draal let air out of his nose.

“Fine. But only because it’s an emergency.”

So they rushed off, unaware of Junter hiding and watching in the shadows.

—-

“How do I look?” Wren said, stepping from out behind the car further back. A twirl showed off the hem of the gauzy skirt that barely covered anything below her hips. By now her “treasure pile” too was packed away, and the space looked more cozy and lived in. The bag with the Birth Stone lay beneath the skirt, just at her hip. His-Little-Star chirped with laughter.

“Such a little trickster fair – get back at Gatto, make him despair!”

Wren sighed and flattened out the part of the skirt that she mended. “That’s the plan anyway. I hope it’s soon, this metal top is itchier than Gut’s ring worm remover…”

The jingle of moving metal beads rang out in the Keep as Wren scratched the bare stone skin underneath. His-Little-Star darted around her person with excitement.

“Out forever we shall be, friends forever, for eternity!”

“Aw, I hope so too.” Wren said with a smile. “To be your friend is my honor.”

“No no no! Don’t you see? You are something just like me.”

Wren cocked a brow at that. “I’m a troll, in case you haven’t noticed.”

 

“More than one thing, you can be,

as your dreams made plain to see!

Visions and spooks and futures bare

What else but troll is inside of there?”

 

His-Little-Star booped against her chest, causing the beads to jangle again. Wren rubbed her forehead.

“Yes, I know, somethings up about me, and I don’t know yet. But that’s a problem for future me. Present me, and _you_ for that matter, need to get out of here as soon as we can.”

Before His-Little-Star could answer, there was a bubbling from the lava pool. Wren gasped and stepped back, and her friend made little squeaks while fluttering about trying to find a hiding spot. Within seconds, a rocky face, in the same shape as Gatto’s mountainous countenance, formed up before her; only his face here was smaller, and floating above the lava like a ghost.

Wren wanted to shudder at his bizarre bodily shapeshifting, but forced herself to casually plop down onto a pillowed seat. It sat among others, as if within a luxurious sitting room, and playfully twirled with one of her short, black locks of hair. Gatto, now fully present, smiled.

“Ah! I knew you would make yourself at home, my Hunter.”

“Where else would I rather be?” Wren said with a smile.

Goodness gracious, she wanted to barf.

His-Little-Star buzzed elsewhere, hiding in a vase, but curiously watching all the same. Gatto gave a belly of a laugh despite not having one with his floating head.

“Such a change in attitude! But I like it. I suppose you are wondering about…our deal, from earlier.”

Wren leaned on her hand, getting comfortable on her seat. “Deal, you say? I suppose I was wondering why you wanted my living stone so badly. A girl gets to thinking when she’s all alone, you know.”

“Hm, yes.” Gatto said, eyeing her carefully. He floated further in and drops of lava seared the stone floor underneath him. “You see, not all trolls are the same. Some are different, such as myself. Such as you, little Hunter.”

“How different?” Wren asked in feigned boredom, checking her nails.

“Different enough, that I was appalled at your hand being taken in marriage by a mere commoner.” Gatto spat. Wren’s eyes widened but forced herself to keep her act on. “Draal the Destroyer he may be, but he is no king, or anything like a mountain. And you…”

Wren finally looked over, and carefully so, to realize that Gatto “sat” just by her, looking over her face, as if scrutinizing every detail on her body. A pale pink hand hovered over her chest. She swallowed nervously. “And me?”

Gatto chuckled quietly. “Well, you felt the pulse of my lava, the very Heartstone that gives me my life, that gives life to my subjects. No one else can feel it, no common troll can. But _you_ did, and don’t pretend that I could not sense your pulse as well.”

Now Wren was confused and showing it. “I…I’m sorry, what? I don’t give off…pulses, whatever that means. You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of Heartstone.”

“You’ve found your answer, yet deny it.” Gatto said in amusement, floating away from her now. “But deny it no longer! Your marriage to that brute of a warrior is a sham, and I shall make a queen out of you yet. And, most assuredly, an heir out of your living stone.”

That set Wren’s jaw to clench tight. She was aware of Gatto’s plan, thanks to her new fae friend, yet hearing it come out of that disgusting head, from that unsettling voice, suddenly made it feel all the more real. It felt like an actual threat now. Perhaps dressing up and acting coy was not such a great idea.

But it was all she had so far. So play it up it was. Wren grinned as softly as she could.

“If you prove yourself stronger and mightier than Draal the Deadly himself, then who am I to deny you?”

 _I’m going to gut you out like a wolf guts a deer if Draal doesn’t,_ she spat in her mind. Gatto smiled wide with yet another laugh.

“Haha! Wonderful! Not that you had much choice of course, but I prefer things to do that much more smoothly, yes? We shall wed shortly.”

“Sh-shortly?! I mean…that soon?” Wren asked, standing up now.

“But of course! I can’t keep my bride waiting! And knowing Trollmarket trolls, they will be here any minute wanting to snatch you away from me. Now, if you excuse me, I have a wedding to fire up.”

And with that, the rocks that formed his face fell back into the lava, and Wren was once again left alone.

All facades fell to the wayside as Wren tried to level her breathing.

“Oh Merlin’s beard, you were _right_.” Wren half-panicked. “Star! Do you think I can hide any of the potions on me?”

“Sure sure, nothing bad shall occur!”

“What of everything else?”

“Hm…”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Wren sighed. “Damn it, I…I have no idea what I was thinking. Is there really no way out of here? You think we could make a dash for it when a guard arrives, or–”

Wren very much saw a shadow dart from one pile of treasure to another. Her ears flicked. If Wren saw something with her poor eyesight, then it had to be real.

“Did you see that?” she hushed, crouched and ready to fight. His-Little-Star buzzed in concern, twirling around. Wren saw it dart again and this time she jumped and rolled, ready to face whomever it was that was hiding from her.

“Gotcha!” she shouted, but to no avail – there was no one behind that large chest. Before Wren could even turn, she felt a hand cover her mouth and pin her against them.

“If you wish to be freed, Trollhunter, then you must agree to free me, as well.”

His-Little-Star was squeaking in the background, as other balls of light – likely pixies – huddled around her to prevent the fairy from doing any magic. Wren muffled a few curses at the gravely voice that held her. Her pursuer chuckled.

“I thought we were friends…at ease, or else your fairy companion goes extinct.”

Wren growled at that. Nomura had already been hurt before by another unfriendly troll; she didn’t need to lose another ally.

“That’s better. Now listen carefully – your enemy is also my own. You know him as Otto Scaarbach.”

Wren inhaled sharply with shock.

“That’s right. I hate him too. So if you want to stop him, if you want anything to do with your friends again – then you will agree to free me from his control.”

Wren was thrown down, and found a sharp knife in her face to prevent her from jumping back up. From where she sat, she recognized a troll similar in build to Junter and Frek.

“Who are you?” she demanded to know.

“All you need to know is that if you do not obtain the Inferna Copula from Scaarbach, you will pay back with your life.”

Wren felt a jolt of terror run down her spine. “You’re Angor Rot…I’ve heard stories about you, I thought–”

“Forget whatever you think. All that matters is that you bring back what is rightfully mine.” Angor hissed. Wren frowned.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because you have no other choice.” he said impatiently now. “Do you want out of here, or not?”

“Only if Star comes with me.” Wren said, standing up now. Her head was swirling – first she came to Gatto, thinking that it would be a simple mission; then he captured her, later saying he would marry her, and claiming that she was something like a Heartstone; and now, she was going to be whisked away by the infamous Angor Rot.

So of course she almost threw up when Angor Rot took out his staff, created a portal to another part of the world, and threw her and His-Little-Star through.

Wren landed onto something grassy, and heaved a little. She stood up, shaking, as he landed rather gracefully next to her. His-Little-Star squealed in confusion as pixies flew through as well, and then disappeared into the night. Wren looked up.

“That…that’s it?! What under earth was that?!”

“Magics you can only dream of.” Angor replied, not even glancing her way. He looked up towards the stars. “It’s almost midnight now. Your friends are likely meeting with Gatto as we speak.”

Wren stood up, realizing that she was in the jungle, just above Gatto’s lair. The fresh air, as humid and thick as it was, was enough to jolt Wren out of her daze.

She was out, she was safe, and she had a fighting chance – it was everything that Wren planned for.

“I mean, thanks I–”

But Angor was already gone. His-Little-Star buzzed in victory around Wren’s head.

“We did it, we made it,

and a win we shall make it!”

Wren smiled, already climbing and walking fast to the village entrance. Something new beat within her -- a refreshed part of her that began to acknowledge that she was more than just a runt, and now, more than just a troll. Whatever Gatto saw in her, she had to see it now too, to gut that king before someone else got the chance.

“Like hell we are! Onwards!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun with this chapter -- I even had to stop it where it ended before it got too long, haha.


	8. The Shadow Rises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trollhunting team members meet up once again for a battle with Gatto, only to find that their work has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it should be obvious by now, but I do minimal editing with my chapters lately. I just hash out what I want and go lmao. BUT, if you notice any inconsistencies with the story, at all, please feel free to point them out in the comments so that I can correct them. Grammer/writing is one thing, story quality is another.

Frek had no issues being the watch man or the driver, but he _did_ loathe waiting when adventure was right around the corner.

There wasn’t much else he could do though. Draal and the kids assured him that, yes, Eli was perfectly capable of defending himself; yes, Draal was perfectly able to keep a level head; and, yes, they trusted him to know how to use a cell phone in case he needed it, despite him still having no idea how to make it work for him. So Frek sat there, on the gyre just out of Gatto’s realm, tapping his fingers and focusing on his surroundings.

Even in relative peace, he could not assume there were no dangers about him; that was the first lesson he received as a child, so long ago. His father and brothers all made sure of that, with their incessant need to beat him into place.

An odd odor wafted by, one almost put out by the heat of the nearby lava. Frek stood up a little straighter to let his good eye get an overview of the gyre station.

“If you wish to speak, then come out and do it.” Frek called out. A figure stepped out, but still stood just at the shadows below. “Alright then, come out.”

“Come down first, Slayer. Or are you afraid?”

That was such an obvious taunt, that Frek should have known better. He heard that raspy voice and rushed over, his sharpened boomerang out for an attack.

“I fear no one! So come out and face me if you dare!”

The figure dissipated. Frek growled, realizing the decoy, and whipped around just in time to block an attack from Angor’s knife.

“Careful, boy, I just wanted a little chat.”

“I don’t deal with the damned.” Frek snarled, half-terrified, half-awed, at being face to face with Angor Rot himself. The assassin merely huffed out his nose in an almost-laugh.

“You are damned. You all are, if you don’t listen to me.”

Frek narrowed his eyes. Neither let up from their parry.

Angor grinned. “The Trollhunter was granted freedom, and she will be here shortly. But she did so at one price: to free my soul.”

That was a shock. Angor used that moment to push him back and place the blade to his neck. The stench of the Creeper’s Sun wafted from his knife up to Frek’s nose and he grimaced, knowing that even one little prick could turn all of him to stone.

“What does that have to do with me, traitor?” Frek strained out, minding his throat by the knife’s edge.

“You are one with enough power to break my soul free from the Inferna Copula, without having my soul lost to the shadows...the Trollhunter may be able to retrieve the ring, but she is not able to wield it’s magic the way you can.”

“I’m no mage, in case you couldn’t tell.” Frek tried to explain.

“And not much of a warrior, either. But that is not the point. You are a thirteenth son of a thirteenth son, and that kind of bond is strong enough to free any sort of magical curse, no?”

Frek furrowed his brows in even more confusion; no further explanation was given to him as Angor backed away.

“Free me, and I won’t slaughter the lot of you once I am.”

And just like that, a portal appeared, and Angor fell into it. Just as quickly, Frek was alone again. He pondered whether he wanted to be.

\----

“It’s my _job_ , Blinkous.” Nomura insisted, going through a few books on her lap. Propped up in a plush recliner Argh had scavenged for her, and feeling more stable from Blinky’s first aid care, she felt no reason to remain idle. No, that wouldn’t do at all -- she would not be able to stay sane, not knowing Wren’s future, feeling unsure still of being worthy enough to be protected by someone as noble as Blinky.

Goodness, these people were obnoxiously good-hearted. Nomura despised it all immensely, so of course she almost snipped at Blinky’s hands when he took her books away.

“I was cataloguing that!”

“The only thing you should be cataloguing is your need for rest!” Blinky chided, back to her now. He paused, as if considering what that phrase meant exactly, before shaking his head and putting the books onto his desk. “I appreciate your eagerness of course, but you can not push yourself mentally nor physically during this time. That was quite the nasty hit you took.”

Nomura huffed. Blinky turned around again, and revealed that he had been carrying a tea tray in his lower set of hands. The tray was set on the little table next to the recliner, and he poured her a cup.

“Now, how about some light conversation, hm? If just to keep that busy mind of yours preoccupied.”

“Wren could be dead.” Nomura said flatly. “Or any of the children. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Blinky sighed and sat down next to her seat, upon a stool, and handed the cup to her. “Yes and no. It bothers me because I am not there to help, to know what is happening; yet I know what they are all capable of, of what they can accomplish. You more than anyone know what Wren can do.”

“She didn’t have to do it, you know. Save me.” Nomura put forward.

Blinky quickly swallowed some tea to answer her again, only to pause at what Nomura said next.

“You didn’t have to, either.”

The cup was set down next to the kettle. Blinky ho-hummed awkwardly.

“Ah, well, I was merely following Wren’s wishes. She asked that I look after you, and help you fit in here. Can’t very well do that if you’re dead or suffering.”

Nomura lowered her eyes. “Of course.”

Blinky puffed his cheeks, lower hands tapping on his knees nervously. “I mean, _of course_ I also helped you out of generosity! I didn’t mean to imply--”

“It’s alright.” Nomura said, looking up again. “But let’s be honest here: I’m a Changeling. In any other circumstance, you’d have either killed me or let me die.”

Blinky paused before returning her gaze, and replied with all the sincerity he could, “You could have done the same to Wren, yet here you are.”

For once, she was stumped, so Nomura finally sipped some of the tea to think instead. The drink was robust and...well, medicinal, was the best way to put it. Perhaps to help fight infection. She inahled it’s scent and closed her eyes.

He wasn’t wrong. Nomura, even if she did not consider herself on Wren’s side at the time, certainly did the dame a favor by turning the tide against Bular. Regret from her betrayal of Draal, the guilt she always felt and tried to hide away when she manipulated her friends like Louise Pepperjack, the hate and sadness and numbness that came with the double life of a freakshow spy...it had all bubbled within her that fateful night. Nomura funneled all of that onto Bular at the time, but really, he had merely been the easiest target for it all. After all, had his father not been the reason behind the formation of the Gumm Gumm and Changeling armies? Hadn’t Bular been nothing but a thankless brute to her and her people?

Blinky said nothing, thankfully, as for the first time, Nomura quietly mulled over her thoughts about her place here, in Trollmarket and the wider world at large. It would take more than tea time to figure it all out, but suddenly -- it no longer felt dangerous or risky to do so. To think and explore. A little weight lifted from Nomura’s shoulders, and she opened her eyes again.

“Perhaps Wren is rubbing off on us both, then.” she conceded in some sort of defeated sense. Blinky chuckled warmly and reclaimed his own cup.

“I would hope so.” he replied. “Though, ah, I suppose I _am_ babying you, just a little, now that I think about it. Are you sure you feel up to cataloguing? It’s dreadful work.”

“Blinkous, I was a museum curator, as I have to keep reminding you. Mundane is my middle name.” Nomura teased with a sly smirk. He turned with another chuckle, trying to hide the sudden blush forming on his cheeks at hearing her call him by his name again.

“Of course, of course. It is rather nice having another scholar to work with.” Blinky admitted, walking to and from the desk to retrieve the books he took. “Argh is most loyal and helpful, and Wren is rather clever, but neither are much help to me in this library.”

Nomura hummed, interested now as she opened up a book next to him. A pillow was adjusted at her back. “You always speak so fondly of this place. As if it’s family.”

A sad grin tugged at his wide mouth. “I suppose it is, in it’s own way. Almost every thing here, other than my own newer additions of course, were all curated or written by my elder brother, Dictatious.”

“You mentioned him before.” Nomura prodded, sipping more tea. Blinky’s eyes sparkled, memories flooding in.

“I’m sure you heard of him? He was once the companion of Deya the Deliverer. Now, don’t tell anyone of this of course...” Blinky leaned towards her, and Nomura eagerly did so as well. “...But there was a reason he insisted on being by her side as her ‘scholarly sidekick.’ He was quite smitten with her!”

Nomura laughed. She picked up a list to compare the book title to. “No! Are you sure?”

“Oh trust me, my dear, it was a schoolboy crush for certain! Call it a fraternal intuition.” Blinky said with all the confidence in the world, and soon the two fell deep into conversation and work. Until Wren and the others returned, they could only have one another for distracted company. Argh watched from a corner, and only left when Blinky shooed him away, mouthing, _stay with Vendel!_ and signaling that Nomura was stable enough to be left with him. The troll stifled his amused rumbles and turned to leave.

He just hoped the Elder was as easy to placate and distract as their Changeling was.

\----

All four of the kids cautiously walked up the same ramps that Wren had just the day before. Jim briefly wondered how long they themselves would stay within Gatto’s realm. As far as his mother knew, what all their parents knew, they had taken a short two day trip camping in the forest. Barbara had been surprisingly lenient about giving him permission to go; perhaps it had something to do with this secret admirer she had been dating.

“It’s someone I want you to meet properly, after we figure out where we stand.” she told him. “No point in letting you meet guy after guy if they don’t last long.”

Well, Jim could respect that. He trusted his mother to handle her dating life, and he trusted in himself now to help Wren however he could. They stood just before Gatto now, who looked rather...gleeful about their visit.

“Humans! Fresh flesh!” he half-teased, glaring down the gaggle of children. All weapons were hidden cleverly within their clothes, so the guards -- unfamiliar with human clothing to begin with -- allowed them entry to his presence. “Be honored, softlings! For you are the first so young to tread upon my kingdom! What brings you to my abode? For what reason do you stand before me?”

Jim cleared his throat. “Um, ah, Gatto, sir? We heard you can grant wishes to those who answer your riddles.”

“Hm...it has been a long time, indeed, since I gave riddles to challengers...and what wish do you demand, should I be bested?”

Claire stepped forward, her fingers brushing against Jim’s by instinct. “That’s the surprise. If we win, then you get to know what it is.”

Gatto blew air out of his nose, and not in frustration either; just as Frek advised, enticing the crazy king with something he could not have would draw him in.

“You tempt me, little ones! Oh ho! I do admire...such gifts...secrets are the greatest treasures to behold, are they not?”

“I think so too!” Eli piped, trying to sound eager. “So what do we have to do, Mr. King sir?”

“Answer but one riddle correctly, and you shall gain your _secret_ wish.” Gatto drawled, his glowing eyes burning brighter with anticipation. “In return...”

He paused for dramatic effect, of course. Toby leaned in closer with Eli, taking up Jim’s other side. All waited in nervous patience.

“Well, let us say that my wish is _also_ a secret.” Gatto rumbled in amusement. “But no matter! Here is my riddle for you all--”

“ _ **YAAAAAAAAAAAA!**_ ”

“DRAAL NOT YET!” Toby was the first to cry out in panic. The others dragged him out of the way just in time. The warrior had barrelled up the ramp, bulldozing over anyone in his way, until he rolled up into the air and landed with a fist to the face of the guard closest to him. Claire whipped out her staff and thwacked one behind them.

“Change of plan! ATTACK!” Claire shouted out. Jim, Toby, and Eli took out their weapons too, and followed suit -- Draal at the lead, of course. The cavern soon delved into utter chaos right under Gatto’s nose. He cackled in delight, more entertained than shocked at the change of events.

“I was wondering when you would attend! Though I must say, human warriors have me s--OW!”

Draal had socked the volcanic king right in his boulder-sized nose. “WHERE IS MY WIFE?!”

A bit of lava-blood poured from Gatto’s face, and he growled. “Enough of this! End them all!”

At that point, Eli had screeched at someone trying to swipe at him, and without thinking, ducked, shut his eyes, and pulled the trigger on his miniature crossbow. The arrow flew and hit Gatto in his poor nose, gaining yet another hit.

His bellow was loud and wild enough to shake the underground space, the lava bubbling up below them. Toby began to flush as the heat rose inside. He swung at the final troll guard that tried attacking them, and leaned against his warhammer to fan himself.

“What now?! It’s literally boiling in here!”

“You will not leave this place alive! I swear it! Not on my wedding day!” Gatto snarled. Draal held up another fist.

“What do you mean wedding?! Where is Wren?! Tell me now!”

Gatto grinned through the blood that poured down his face. “Even if you killed me, you would never find her! She is the crown jewel to my treasury! The future of my kingdom! You can never hope to--!”

Once again, he was interrupted and consequently humiliated. Wren jumped down from above, wearing her Daylight Armor, kicking him in his nose...again. At least this time, Gatto was finally knocked unconcious.

That unlucky nose -- it was beyond battered now. But before Wren had the thought to end him with her Sword, she first wanted her friends and husband to get back to safety.

“What are you doing here?!” Wren chided as she raced them all down the creaking and caving ramps. “I saw Frek on the gyre, after I got my amulet, and told me you all had the AUDACITY too--!”

Draal snatched her up over his shoulder and they continued their rush out the cavern and through the village. The villagers, likely used to regular eruptions, were already high in the carved homes above them. “You can nag me later, my sweet! But we need to go, NOW!”

Wren watched their backs, noting that no one was following them at least; they merely had to outrun the lava flow. By then, His-Little-Star poked out of Wren’s armored collar and caught Jim’s attention.

“Whoa! What the hell is that!”

“Hello, good brave fellow!” she greeted.

There was no time for pleasantries, however. Both Wren and the fairy were promptly dumped into the gyre, where she was gathered up in Draal’s frantic arms. Frek looked just as haphazard as when Wren had left him, but otherwise he had the sense to have the vehicle started up so they could make their escape. The shrieks from the kids and Wren’s own yelp of surprise were drowned out by the buzz of magical energy that whisked them out of Gatto’s realm.

\----

“Vendel coming!” Argh warned, rushing into the library. Blinky fumbled with a scroll he was rolling up and hurriedly stuffed it away. Nomura simply sat in her recliner, though she closed the tome she had been updating.

“Oh dear, does he know about Wren?”

“I do!” Vendel shouted from the entrance as he strode in with fury. Rika was just behind him -- not angry, but clearly distressed. “I demand an explanation at once! Where is she?!”

Nomura sunk a little into her chair, half-amused and half-scared, trying to hide away from the Elder’s anger. Blinky tripped over his words before he answered.

“She was captured by Gatto to spare our lives.” He put simply, avoiding the conversation from focusing on Nomura. “At our return, Draal and Frek dispatched to fetch her for us.”

Vendel took in a breath. “No one else?”

Argh nervously moved around where he stood, and Blinky again fumbled about his tongue, before there was another shout from the entrance.

“Hi Papa!”

Wren walked up briskly to Vendel and gave him a hug. Confusion etched his face, anger still in his eyes, though he still melted in her arms and hugged her back.

“For Merlin’s sake, my girl! What’s with this nonsense about Gatto?”

“You had us scared to death!” Rika said with an exasperated laugh and a hug of her own. “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine.” Wren confirmed. “But um...Papa, I hope you don’t mind, but me and my team need to talk with you, about what we found out.”

Back at the Heartstone, Argh and Vendel followed Wren where the others waited for them.

There, Wren recounted what happened to her since being swallowed into Gatto’s Keep. Everyone took a seat for this one, as she had yet to tell the others due to their rushed escape. His-Little-Star even got her own little introduction to everyone, though she reigned in her normally cheerful nature and settled onto a glass jar as a chair to rest. Frek himself shook a little, staring at the floor, when the story got to what he shared with them concerning Angor Rot.

“First the Birth Stone, and now a feared assassin.” Vendel groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Wren, do you know the kind of trouble you are in now?”

“Papa, I am only doing what my visions have told me to do, what the Void has told me to do.”

“You mean going into the Darklands? And with someone like Angor Rot loose in Arcadia? He has only let you and Frek live for his own purposes! And now you want to unleash Gunmar upon us?!”

“We’re not unleashing anything.” Wren said, flustered now. “I’ll just go in with a team, and--”

“You will NOT.” Vendel ordered, standing up with a clang of his staff onto the floor. “Killahead Bridge is locked safely away for now, and I intend to _keep_ it that way. How can we trust that Gunmar won’t find a way to it, if it were put together again? That this Janus Order you failed to find won’t discover where it is and use it against us?”

Wren tried not to look defeated. “Papa, I’m...I’m not saying that none of that you say is true...but I’m only doing what I’ve been set out to do.”

“From what Draal told me, you are also set out to have a child. Honestly! You are trying to recover the Triumbric Stones, fight Angor, and bring in a child in such chaos?!”

“Enough.” Rika said sharply, standing up now too. “Vendel, you know there is more than one way to make a child. And you can’t just assume that your daughter would simply get herself pregnant while fighting. She’s smarter than that!”

“Can we not talk about my personal business in the open like this?” Wren said through gritted teeth. Vendel blew air out of his nose and dismissed her with a wave.

“Fine. Just go. Do as you wish, Trollhunter. I clearly have no bearing over your better judgements.”

He did not even give her a good bye. He walked away to another chamber further back. Rika gave her daughter a sympathetic look before going after Vendel.

“I’m sorry, Wren, please talk to me later; if what you say about your visions is true, if Gatto was right, then there is much I need to share, when you are ready.” she assured her, and then disappeared as well.

Wren was left standing there, embarrassed and frustrated. Draal came up to her side.

“Perhaps it is time for us all to rest, before the work begins.”

“But...”

“We’re not expected to go back for another day.” Jim put in. “Me and the others can help you out with the Tirumbric stone stuff once we relax after all that.”

“AND help with Angor Rot too.” Eli insisted. Frek placed is hand on his shoulder.

“Do what you must concerning Gunmar’s stones of legend, but Angor Rot is _my_ business. I’ve only let Wren be involved for the simple fact that Angor himself invited her.” he explained, sounding tense. Wren nodded. If what Angor had told her was true, then she would have to face Otto Scaarbach; the soulless warrior enslaved by him would be Frek's focus.

“I agree. Blinky?”

She turned to him, and was glad that he seemed to read her mind. He shared a gentle, knowing grin.

“I will get started on researching more into the other stones, to see what else we need to find, with Nomura’s help of course. And Frek, you are more than welcome to do what research you can on this Angor Rot dilemma.”

“I shall help you my good man!” His-Little-Star spoke for the first time in a while, her shine somewhat dim. “Though I should rest while I can...”

That was that. They all agreed, to Wren’s amusement, to camp out within the Hero’s Forge. “We already told our families we were on a real camping trip anyway.” Toby shared enthusiasticly. The kids too were excited to get to know His-Little-Star better, and despite her being tired, was more than happy to share a ditty or two, even if just for the attention it gave her.

“Do not think that your father despises you.” Draal said to her quietly, as they sat in a circle together at their bedding. He had watched her face carefully since they left the Heartstone Chamber, and all he wanted to do was gather her up somewhere to be alone. But instead, Wren gave a non-commital noise to acknowledge what he said; she watched her fairy friend entertain the others to avoid talking. He held her hand carefully.

“I know what it’s like. So listen to me, if nothing else.”

Wren looked down. “I know what you are going to say. I just...I need time to rest. And think things over. I plan to speak with Rika about everything anyway.”

“No matter what, I love you. And so does Vendel.” Draal assured her. He pushed her against himself to let her half-lay on his arm, both of them finally relaxing enough to rest properly. “We’ll figure this out. But I almost lost you today -- so please, let me enjoy you while I can.”

Wren sighed into him, and while she did not answer, she allowed herself to be fussed over regardless. If His-Little-Star’s prophecy and her own dream visions were true, then there were yet more challenges to face -- the Trollhunter wondered how many more times she or the others would have to almost lose themselves to fulfill them.

\----

Junter should have known that Angor Rot would approach the others. He would never willingly help or serve Changeling masters -- Junter was hardly accommodating for his human one, and only because he still held the Eye of Gunmar on his person.

No matter then. Rot had his Shadow Staff, but Junter had his Shadow Ring. He despised using it, however -- it rendered him invisible for as long as he wore it, by allowing him to dwell in the world inbetween their world and the world of Shadows.

And every time he wore it, without fail, he saw things.

Now was not the time to dwell on shadows. He had to report to Strickler about what he saw in the Heartstone Chamber.

“You mentioned my brother being the thirteenth son of a thirteenth son before.” Junter said, crossing his arms now. They both met at a sewer’s gated entrance in the woods just outside of town. “Considering that this monster dared approach Frek alone, and now that Vendel is aware of this deception, I demand to hear the story that you claim to know.”

Strickler sighed and pocketed the phone he had been fiddling with. Barbara wouldn’t mind some silence, he knew. “It’s simple, really. Your father was power hungry, a glory hound, and so when he saw his sweetheart get pledged to his eldest brother, he had him killed.”

Junter stiffened, only barely holding back the anger he felt at such an accusation. “My mother and father are not conspirators.”

“Oh not Myleth, only Kref.” Strickler chuckled. Junter snorted.

“This is not a joke, fleshbag!”

“Yes yes, I understand. Allow me to continue.”

There was a moment when Strickler took out something out of his pocket -- the Eye. Junter frowned but listened carefully.

“This stone did not come to my possession without purpose. Your father, in exchange for the assassination of not just the eldest brother, but all of them, to ensure his place as Elder and take Myleth as his wife, he took this from the Krubera long ago.”

“To whom?”

“That is a secret of my own.” Strickler said, though only telling half the truth. In reality, he was unsure who exactly gave the Janus Order this priceless artifact. In a world of backstabbing and two faced agents, it was best left mum; the only thing he knew for sure was of how the Eye of Gunmar was even stolen in the first place -- Kref. And that was what he told Junter.

“I don’t...understand! How is this possible? None of our records, or our tales--”

“The victors of wars write history. I would know.” Strickler said firmly. He then held out the Eye of Gunmar closer to him, causing the troll to flinch. “And unless you want Gunmar to return and erase all that you know, then you better hope that Angor Rot and the Janus Order are not planning to get the Stones together before the Trollhunter can.”

Junter’s eyes glazed over with shocked revelation. “That’s why Angor approached Wren and Frek. He wants to be freed from...”

“We both know of Gunmar’s devotion to Morgana as a goddess, before he had been banished. Just think of the suffering Angor Rot will have to endure, if that ‘goddess’ were brought back into our realm.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then you must confront your family. Let Wren and your brother deal with Angor Rot, and warn your tribe of what is to come.”

For once, Strickler sounded strained, worried even, instead of sure of himself. Junter pondered what was going on in his mind, pondering if he were as human as he let on.

“And what do you plan to do?”

“Make amends.” Strickler said simply, calming down again. “Don’t take longer than necessary.”

“But the Trollhunter--”

“Will be more than ready to face whatever is prepared for her.” he snapped impatiently now. “All _you_ need to do, is warn your father of Frek’s involvement with Angor Rot’s freedom, and of Gunmar’s forces striving to be free again. Trollmarket will need the armies to challenge a Gumm Gumm horde.”

Finally, Strickler paused, and looked at him with hard eyes. “Do you understand?”

Junter tersely nodded. “Fine.”

The two parted, thoughts of Gunmar’s nightmarish return hot on their heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally forgot to mention this before, but: much of my Blinky/Nomura interactions are inspired directly by Most Fantastical’s own trilogy with post-s3 Jim, over at ff.net. :)


	9. Of Stones and Spying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After making a sensitive deal with Strickler, Wren and Draal seek out information with a spy mission of their own, and discover the beginning of the answers that the Trollhunting team seeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo hooo! this chapter was a pain to write. I rewrote this sucker FIVE TIMES just to get it coherent. I realized that I had been adding too many characters and subplots, so I was trying to acknowledge them all while also wrapping up different parts of the story. Hopefully this will be less of an issue going forward. Also forgive my terrible spelling with names lol

Cleaving for Wren was a skill well-earned by proper training and fortitude of her past, but her dear Papa never did teach her how to cleave in front of a live audience.

The chisel found a fault line, and with a hammer raised, Wren lifted up the hammer only a little, to give it the first tap inwards. But then Toby coughed. She groaned and turned to the teenagers gawking at her; her goggles and glvoes remained on.

“Do you mind?”

“Sorry, I just swallowed a habañero wrong.” Toby said with a sheepish smile. A burrito was stuffed back into his book bag. His-Little-Star, who had been spectating as well, decided that the burrito was more interesting and dove in after it for a bite.

“It’s just, this is serious work. I’m not just cracking open rocks willy-nilly -- I need to be super concentrated to make this function properly.”

Claire bit her lip; her brown eyes never left the Birth Stone. “Did Gunmar really come out of that thing? Like, was it an egg or something?”

“No! No, not at all.” Wren said with an amused snort. “I guess a birth stone is kind of like an egg. Some trolls have their babies grown in crystals called birth stones, and they crack open when the whelp is big enough.”

“Gunmar came from a rock egg.” Eli said with some awe in his tone. Wren rolled her eyes and faced the first of the Triumbric stones again. She ignored the fairy inside Toby’s bag, who was now coughing from the peppers.

“Sure. Just be quiet, alright?”

Jim gave her a thumbs up, and none of them even breathed loud after that. Wren swallowed, set up the chisel to the fault line again, and made her first strike.

Perfection! A powerless shard dropped off, the energy within pulsating a little louder now. Someone audibly gasped, sharp and inward, though it did not distract Wren now. No, Wren likely gasped herself -- for the energy pulsating within the stone reverberated within her own core. It was like Gatto’s heartstone lava all over again.

Now was not the time to figure out what it was about Wren that set her apart from other trolls. One mystery at a time. Wren found another fault line, chipped off another dead end with one clean tap, and did it again and again until there was only the heart of it left.

It was jagged and purple, quite small for something that practically flowed out its magic. Of all the experiments and minerals and rocks that Wren had worked upon over the years, this one was the most radiant, the most frightening. Carefully, the others -- even His-Little-Star -- watched as Wren safely dropped it within her Amulet, whirring in acceptance at the new stone. Jim was the first to finally speak.

“Does it work?”

Toby let out a breath and added, “Yeah, how do those stone things help anyway? Blinky and Nomura have been studying about the Triumbric Stones since forever.”

“Forever and ever we search through the tomes!” His-Little-Star confirmed. “But what we must find, we have yet to know.”

“For good reason. It was supposed to all be a myth.” Wren explained, placing the Amulet around her neck again. She lead them out of the Heartstone Chamber where she had worked. “The Dishonorable Bedehilde lead a questionable cult, but he was said to be a prophet, just like Star. I suppose it’s all true.”

“You mean knowing about Gunmar’s stones?” Eli asked. Wren nodded.

“More or less. I just hope the others can find out about the other stones soon.”

They walked into the market now, the passerby long used to the human children wandering among them; Bagdwella herself waved the group over towards her shop. His-Little-Star was shooed away when she got too close.

“Oh good! I was hoping the fleshwhelps would be here.” she giggled. A little handmade outfit, as if for a doll, was taken out and shown to Toby. “Can you take this to that little gnome? I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I heard his wedding is soon and I thought to make him dress the part!”

Eli blinked, sharing a look with Toby, who was blushing. “Yeah. Chompsky’s marrying my Sally-Go-Back collection figure.”

“Aw! But I would have wanted to be the maid of honor!” Jim teased, and the others got in it relentless until the poor boy was beyond exasperation. As Bagdwella shared more of the crafts she made for the gnome’s play wedding, Draal lumbered by. Wren smiled and gave him her usual greeting, before he took her to the side with a grim look.

“It’s Strickler.”

Wren frowned. “What? I thought he was gone!”

“He’s certainly back now. He’s outside, with Frek and Argh.” Draal cleared his throat, and with a lowered voice and a wary look at the others, added, “It’s urgent that you go without them.”

“I understand.” Wren said. After giving Jim orders to take themselves to the Forge for practice, she hurriedly followed her husband outside. They left through the gyre station, going through the sewers before finally meeting Strickler, Frek, and Argh in the woods, just outside the opening. Immediately she donned her Daylight Armor.

“An honor to meet again.” Strickler said with a smile, a hand lifted up to his forehead in a formal greeting. He stood there in his troll form, and his eyes glowed under the nearly set sun.

“Now you’re wordy.” Wren snapped without a care. “Why are you here? I thought you got the freedom you wanted.”

“I have...did. But I’m afraid we both have problems that could be helped, if we did one another a favor of sorts.”

Wren glanced over at Draal. He chuffed out his nose and narrowed his eyes in response.

“I’ll hear it out, at the least, but I can’t promise I’ll like it.”

Strickler smirked. “You don’t have to like it. I would like to return to Arcadia, under the assumption that I am under the protection of the Trollhunter as I do so.”

“Excuse you?” Wren snapped. Strickler lifted up a hand, the two warriors in the group growling.

“Your role as Trollhunter is to protect both Arcadia Oaks as well as Trollmarket. I will not dwell among humans knowing that I am not offered the same security as they are.”

“So what do we get?” Wren pressed. At that, Strickler took something out from his cloak. Frek and Draal immediately took on defensive stances -- but all that came out was a little stone. Frek growled, and like his brother had before him, immediately bent one knee to it.

Strickler smirked. “I always admired how your tribe could worship and hate Gunmar all at once.”

Frek’s face flushed in shame. “It is not my call to determine whether I should keep my knee straight to legend.”

“Wait, that...” Wren said in a hushed tone. The same powerful force from before rolled off of that stone too, the way the Birth Stone had. “That’s a Triumbric Stone! How did you get that? Why do you even have that?!”

“Call it insurance; the Order always flushes out those who fail to keep away from the enemy, so I had this on my person at all times, in case it could be used as a bargaining chip.”

He did not quite answer Wren’s first question. Not that she cared anymore. Wren turned to the others immediately and they formed a little circle.

“We have to.” Wren said, her golden eyes glittering with excitement. Draal growled.

“He’ll roam free! That’s insanity!”

Frek shook a little. “It’s insanity that an Impure has hold over that...thing...”

Wren gave him a worried look. If that’s how he reacted to a stone of Gunmar’s, then how would he react to Gunmar himself? She would have to interrogate him later about it.

“Look, all I know is, at least we’d keep an eye on him. And he’s not stupid, he would know how to avoid the Janus Order.”

“Maybe want to be found.” Argh rumbled evenly. Wren took in a breath and let it out.

“Maybe. I don’t know. But this is something we absolutely need. With this, we’re already two steps ahead of the Order! All we’ll need is the third stone before the Changelings do. And with Killahead Bridge in Trollmarket, I doubt they can do anything with Gunmar anyway.”

Argh chuffed uncertainly, with all the talk from Gunmar. Being a former Gumm Gumm himself, he no doubt was not fully placated with Wren’s assurances. Still, a decision had to be made. Wren turned back to Strickler, who held out the Eye of Gunmar again.

“Fine. It’s a deal.” Wren began, walking over to him. “BUT, you will tell us where you live, where you go, and who you interact with. You want protection? Then don’t keep secrets from us.”

“Never.” Strickler said. The Eye of Gunmar was slipped into Wren’s armored hand and he stepped back. “Jim will know where I am. I’m sure the Puberty Patrol will have things under control for you?”

“Fare well, Strickler.” Wren gritted from her clenched jaw. Strickler merely chuckled, and slipped from the shadows. Already cleaved, Wren simply took off her Amulet and armor, placing the second stone within it. It laid about her neck once again. Only Draal’s hand on her shoulder got her out of the mind space she found herself lost in.

“Not bad, Trollhunter.” Draal tiredly grinned. “Though I hate the idea of that man out and about with fleshbags.”

“Me too. I doubt he’ll do something too desperate, but we can keep watch on him.”

Frek frowned at that and they returned to the sewers to head back to Trollmarket. “I don’t want him around the fleshwhelps. I don’t care how well they are trained.”

“They more than survived Gatto.“ Wren made in their defense. “I admit, I do worry over them, and I won’t pretend that I am okay with them acting as soldiers, but they are what they are. They have proven themselves.”

Argh grunted. “But still afraid. Me too. Toby strong and learning, but very kind, hopeful.”

“They all are.” Frek strained out, using the horngazel key to open a magical gateway into their underground city. He did so rather harshly. Draal stopped him from walking forward and ahead of them.

“Wren is no different, yet she is Trollhunter. I say we trust our teammates, friend.”

The Slayer did not look up at any of them. Wren herself flushed at Draal’s outspoken confidence in her abilities as a warrior.

“I suppose I have no say in the matter?” Frek eventually let out, looking up. Wren gave him a tired grin.

“You have a small say. And if you say you are worried for your human charges, then do what you must to guard and lead them. I trust you as much as I trust the children.”

“All I want is to go after Angor Rot alone, when the time is right.” Frek told Wren. “You do what you must to get the Inferna Copula, but when it is time to do away with him, you leave it to me. And I do not want Eli --”

Frek caught himself and cleared his throat. “Er, I mean, I don’t want the kids involved. At all. Angor Rot only let them live last time, because he was testing their strength. He likes to toy with his game before the hunt begins, and I’d rather it not start at all.”

Draal nodded in understanding, and Wren could not help but agree. Without the kids’ help for dealing with Angor Rot, they were regulated to their usual training; however, they were also told to stop patrolling and instead help with Blinky and Nomura in the library.

So that left Draal and Wren for patrol. Just as they made to leave, rounding a quiet corner in the market, Wren squealed as she felt herself get picked up and pushed against the wall by a certain pair of blue and metal hands. Initial protests failed to bubble out as Draal nipped and licked her neck the way she liked. Wren shuddered with a gasp.

“My warrior, not now...” Wren finally managed to get out, albeit with a sluggish smile. Draal nuzzled her nose and held her tightly against him.

“I’ve missed you, my sweet. I’ve almost lost you. I could _still_ lose you. Please, let me have this.”

Wren sighed and held him in return; he had a powerful point, especially now with the Tirumbric Stones coming to fruition. How soon would they lose their sense of peace again?

“How much of me did you want then?” Wren finally asked. His answer was to lead her back to their home and spend time alone. Patrolling could wait.

——

Nomura got a big kick out of the stash of romance novels she found. If Blinky insisted on making her work on a recliner and taking periodic breaks, she might as well do it with cheesy Harlequin stories to get her mind off of things. His-Little-Star joined in, bored with the training going on at the Hero’s Forge, and insisted on reading over her shoulder.

“But why would he say no, when his heart is rearing to go?!” His-Little-Star huffed at the main character’s love interest. Nomura chuckled and flipped to the next page.

“That’s the fun of it. If they just got together right away there wouldn’t be a story, would there?”

The fairy hummed and floated downwards to settle onto a pillow. “I have a story too, one less romantic, but no less true.”

Nomura grunted, too busy reading, so she continued.

“Fae there are, in a cavern not far.”

“Oh?” That got the Changeling’s attention. Now His-Little-Star flickered a little in her light. She bounced as if from one little foot to another.

“Injured you are, but magic I have.

Knowledge you gain, from this fairy path.

Come with me Changeling friend:

Now what will happen in The End.”

Nomura’s eyes widened a little and the book was closed. “What are you talking about?”

His-Little-Star glowed a tad brighter, her voice more melodious now. “Come with me stone friend, just around this fairy bend.”

“I’ve read enough fairy tales to know not to take on that kind of offer.” Nomura sneered, but the fairy merely giggled and fluttered upwards to face her fully.

“I heal you

You help me

There are rewards

yet to be seen

Follow me there

Follow me back

And you will find

What we lack!”

Oh, a healing sounded good. Blinky was good at patching her up, but the injury too deep and delicate to allow her much movement any time soon. Nomura enjoyed using her mind in the large library, but to be thinking on her feet once again...

“Not a trick, but a treat.” His-Little-Star said, mischievous as ever but genuine in her call to aid. “Won’t it be neat?”

“...Blinky is gonna kill me if it isn’t.” Nomura sighed, sitting up. “Alright then, what’s the catch? And where’s this fairy bend?”

There was a bright light, and Nomura lost sight of everything else.

— —

Draal hummed at the sight of his wife walking around the sitting room looking for her good shirt. “I rather like you without much on.”

“When I suplex Gunmar in the Darklands, I’ll be sure to follow your fashion sense.” Wren smirked. It turned into a frown when she found her burqa. It was a tad dusty, but otherwise clean. She wondered how her old human friends were doing. Half a year was a long time for humans, and from what the children shared with her, much had changed. So much.

Then the cogs in Wren’s brain began to work.

What if she skipped the middlemen altogether?

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before?” she exclaimed suddenly, rushing back to the nesting room for her burqa. Draal groaned and rubbed his face tiredly as he saw her walking towards him again, fully decked out in her human disguise.

“The Janus Order knows about this get up!” Draal argued. “They’ll spot you out in a second!”

“Exactly. I can keep an eye on Strickler among the crowds and hopefully attract a spy or two in the process.” Wren explained rather simply, taking out her phone. She did not quite understand social media yet, but she followed Jim and his friends on something called “face book” and found a plethora of human lifestyle within it. If her memory was correct, that meant the other day, ‘Sadia’ saw an announcement for an open house night at the high school they attended. Mr. Mueller was their new history teacher and a possible suspect, so there first it was.When she shared her idea out-loud, it was not well received.

“I don’t like being away from you.” Draal growled. “Are you sure about this?”

“You can sneak in through the school basement if you need to. But I need eyes outside in case something happens.” Wren explained. She smiled underneath her veil, feeling a bit of excitement at the prospect of mingling with humans again -- every encounter was always delightful and brought some joy into her otherwise hard work of Trollhunting.

That was that and the duo hurried over to Arcadia Oaks High. A grumbling husband was left behind as Wren stepped upwards and into the school courtyard.

The first to greet her was Barbara. She laughed and shook her hand.

“Oh, Sadia! I didn’t know you were back in town.”

Wren grinned under her veil. “I am, for now at least. It’s hard to stay away for long.”

“All the better, though I can’t say that Jim can act as a guide again.” Barbara admitted with a blush. “He’s...well, he’s being a teenager, I suppose.”

Wren nodded, though a wave of guilt overcame her. “Well, if it helps, we all grow up eventually. I don’t doubt he is doing good and noble things.”

That earned her a snort. “Knowing Jim, maybe. But...I just worry about him, you know? I just got back from a couple of his teachers. Apparently he’s been falling asleep in class.”

“O-oh?”

“Right? He had issues with that before, but I made him promise me to cut back on his work at home when the school year started, and it worked until now. I just wish he would tell me what he’s up to, you know?”

“I can speak with him if you like.” Wren insisted, and Barbara blushed again, laughing it off.

“No no, that’s my job.” She said, but Wren shook her head.

“I mean it, I’m a friend. Friends help each other. The least I can do to repay your kindness is see if Jim will open up around myself.”

Before Barbara could reply, there was a loud greeting from behind her.

“Ah! Miss Ali? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Mr. Meuller. Sadia cleared her throat to face him with Barbara. “How so, sir?”

“Everyone has mentioned you, sooner or later.” he said, an excited gleam in his green eyes. A knowing, excited gleam. Wren’s stomach turned.

“My reputation proceeds me.” Wren forced herself to laugh out. As he turned to Barbara to speak with her, she used the moment to slip away into the crowds and snake her way towards the office rooms.

Once she spotted Meuller’s name, Wren carefully opened the door, slunk in, and stepped around as carefully as she could. It was dark and unlit, making it difficult for her poor eyesight to make anything out.

What would a possible Changeling agent hide in his own office? A key? A secret chest?

Suddenly, Wren’s living stone began to ache and she winced. Right, that had to be addressed at some point. Her weird biology. Inbetween the strange pain and the darkness, the Trollhunter began to wonder if she should have assigned the spy mission to Chompsky.

Then Wren heard it -- a hum.

It came from the desk, and she half-tripped over a rolling chair rushing to it, as if her life depended on it. In a drawer Wren found it, and there it was: a piece of what could only be Heartstone.

It was pink, like her stone skin, like her living stone. Mesmerized and scared, Wren grabbed it tightly and pushed it into the hidden pocket within her burqa. Perhaps if her father was eager to be less of a stubborn goat, he would be open to deciphering what this all meant. Just as Wren closed the drawer, there was the sound of warping space and time, and saw a large, black hole open up in the middle of the air. Wren gasped and ducked, curling up under the desk, and heard someone come out of the portal.

Angor Rot.

The feet padded on the carpeted floor, heavy but precise. There was a chuff, irritated and tired, before there were sounds of a knife scraping on rock. A moment of tense waiting later, Wren’s ears perked at the sound of a door opening and slamming shut.

“Took you long enough.” came Mr. Mueller’s voice, only...gruffer now. “So tell me, is there a reason why I saw ‘Sadia Ali’ just outside? In MY school?!”

The scraping stopped. “I was told by locals that she was prisoner to King Gatto.”

“Yes, and you were supposed to bring her BACK.”

There was a stone-crushing hit, making Wren cringe at the sound.

“And you were SUPPOSED to report back YESTERDAY--”

Another smack.

“WITH HER.”

This time, the smack was hard enough to make Angor fall to his knees. The weight hitting the floor caused it to shake a little.

“At least tell me Junter is dead?”

“Yes...he is...”

Wren’s heart froze and her breathing stopped from shock.

“Good. We don’t need Strickler’s lackey warning the others about Angor.” Mueller then paused, sniffing the scent of female troll. “Wait...What’s that?”

Oh no.

Already on edge with the finding of the heartstone and with this news, Wren panicked and flipped the desk. It rolled in the air and used the time to don her Daylight armor. She only barely registered that it now came with a full-faced helmet.

“STOP HER!” Mueller ordered, rushing out of the office with a limp leg. Angor growled with a sick grin and lunged for an attack. Wren found herself matching his speed and strength -- no doubt a boost from the heartstone shard in her pocket. How long that boost would last evaded her, so she fought as hard as she could to get her out of there.

“Did you forget our deal, little Hunter?” Angor sneered as they parried. Wren huffed.

“I can see why you were desperate enough to come to me. He’s not so nice, is he?”

Angor lost his smirk and roared, pushing her away from him and gesturing at her with that knife.

“You exposed yourself and threatened everything! I should end you now!”

There was breaking glass as the windows suddenly blew apart, a blue blurr ramming Angor into the wall. At that, Draal stood and ran out the same wide and broken windows with Wren.

“That had better been worth it!” he yelled out as they bounded into the darkness that lead towards the bridge. Those orange-yellow eyes then did a double take to Wren’s upgraded armor. “Nice helmet, my sweet.”

Wren laughed. “Thanks. But I have something better to show you.”

They paused their rush home, just outside the portal to Trollmarket now. The burqa was in shreds now, and made Wren look as wild as her face when she pulled out the pink shard. It hummed in response to her heartbeat, her own living stone lightly pulsating in time just underneath her chest. Draal sharply inhaled.

“...Why do you keep making things more complicated?” he chuckled dryly, rubbing his head. Wren nuzzled their noses together briefly before stowing the shard back into her pocket.

“I don’t make things complicated, life just complicates itself for me.” Then Wren’s smile faltered. “But...I have more than just that. I...I have news of Junter. Frek’s not gonna like it.”

Draal hummed, brows furrowing. “We can talk about plans later. First, we go to Vendel about everything you found.”

He rolled his eyes when Wren pursed her lips at the idea. “I mean it. He’s not so heartless to just refuse you help.”

Wren sighed. “I hope so. Things are falling into place so quickly...and I don’t doubt Kanjigar knew this would happen.”

They finally went inside, knowing that they had a lot to tell to many.

\-----

Deep below, deeper than any troll cavern could ever hope to be carved in, dwelt the Darklands. Once teeming with life, it grew ever more dead over the millennia as trollkind migrated away from their birth place and towards the surface. These depths were cut off from the rest of the world now -- all life slowly squeezed out as it made it’s last steps in existence.

But there was life there, yet.

NoName was one of them, and not by choice. He snuck around a couple of guards, deathly silent and trying his best to suppress his scent of fear. He always hated doing this -- but people seemed to have ways of convincing him to do what they wanted. Bribery was a powerful thing, huh?

“Damn.” he hissed, and the little green body crawled backwards into his hiding spot. Another couple of Gumm Gumm sentries rushed by. Had they seen Bular? Did they know about the spying they did now? NoName couldn’t say just yet. The Darklands were a wild labyrinth devoid of anything sensible and logical, so it was always safer to wait it out.

It turned out to be a nyargarloth issue. All the better then, something to distract them. NoName waited for a large group to pass by again before he leaped out and hid among the shadows of dying blue and purple crystal. It was not a long wait for Bular, who also hid, but within a stout cave inlet.

He stood there with folded arms, carefully concealing a large healing if sore wound on his chest. “News?”

“Another beastie messin’ around, but nothin’ much.” NoName reported with a whisper. He sat down and scratched behind his ear in proper canine fashion. “Just the same ol’ same ol’.”

Bular's face went blank. “He’s stopped looking for me.”

“That’s good, right? At least Big Bad Man himself ain’t tryin’ ta kill ya. Or me for that matter...”

“Right.” Bular said, distracted now. The wound his own father gave him upon his defeat from Wren began to ache even more. It always did when he thought of Gunmar, of what he had done. “Just keep out of sight. I’m not going to die because of an Impure’s desire to cut corners.”

“Yeah yeah.” NoName blew off. “I don’t wanna hear it unless you got somethin’ good to eat. Ya did, didn’t ya?”

Bular rolled his eyes and showed him the bag of nyargaloth eggs he managed to sneak away. Well, that explained why they were angry. “If you want to eat rather than _be_ eaten, then you better hurry up. The others are getting impatient.”

“You too, big guy! Relax. We’re sittin’ pretty tonight. No more patrols lookin’ for us, and now we got some grub!” NoName snickered with a watering mouth. Bular chuffed and threw the bag over his shoulder with a grimace. He hoped Kodanth had some numbing balm left; this wound was not getting much better as time went on.

Bular didn’t know how much time he had left to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn’t tell, “NoName” is “NotEnrique”. I kinda figured that most Changelings only get a name once they are placed, and to simplify the story, there are no humans that they swamp with. They are just given to human families who are adopting or fostering, due to the massive network of the Janus Order in human society.


End file.
